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Motorboat

After the fact
people always say
Im sorry I did that
Im sorry it went like that

After the trip
people always say
it was a gyp
yeah it was a rip-off

After the time
people always say
it was hardly sublime
oh it was a real crime

After the years
people always say
I was full of fears
ah it brings tears

There must be a force
that drags us in its wake
and leads us on its course
toward more than we can take
and does not count our vote,
makes us behave like duds;
it is a motorboat:
were the churned waves and suds.

David Francis


If you have any comments on this poem, David Francis would be pleased to hear from you.

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