Der Untergang der Titanic by Willy Stöwer, 1912

Everybody knows
icebergs hide
in dark money
and our once great ship
has gone far off
course. The North Star
should be well astern
instead of dead ahead.

It’s obvious even in steerage.
We can feel the cold wind
of inequality and the harsh spray
of dreams delayed.
Yet despite our howls of protest
and fist-shaking demands,
we cannot force the crew
to turn around.

While we argue over who’s to blame,
few notice the luxury passengers
who with clinking glasses
toast their low cunning
in cigar smoke haze,
gambling with our life savings
and tipping the staff
so they won’t steer clear.

First class anticipates
the coming crash.
They’ll be safe
in their private lifeboats,
frown at the poor planning
of the drowned,
then mass another fortune
rebuilding the ship.

Angry about politics? Me too. I support Bernie Sanders.