Over the ocean's creed
Lie in waiting with foreign breed.
Heavy metals laced the ocean's petals
En-route to the creek in cargoed cans.
Rice from the fields of Thailand,
Iced fishes from freezing Iceland.
Craps of computer hardware from Shenzen,
Packs of frozen skeletal turkeys from China.
Smuggled contrabands in hidden sacks
Matches and toothpicks from Japan's racks.
Cornfield of men at the wharf
Old and young, giant and dwarf
Exposing chest to the moment cling
Hurling sacks of rice the cargoes bring
Staggering weightless like David's sling
"No food for the lazy" the saying goes
When the ships come to berth,
Able men to the harbor dart.
A wave of pity descends my lung
Watching men so silly and strong-
Getting strangled beneath heavy loads,
Smiling wickedly at crumpled notes.
If only those energies could grace a trade,
And suffocate beneath the weights of knowledge.
When those ships come to berth,
May be they will someday leave this shore
Filled with the toil they bore
With our local brands in foreign lands.
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