"To think of these stars that you see overhead at night, these vast worlds which we can never reach. I would annex the planets if I could; I often think of that. It makes me sad to see them so clear and yet so far."--Cecil Rhodes
We gathered on the dock and watched it; a flaming ship,
trailing smoke and sloughing strips of steel skin.
Fins of gashed and guttered ripped hull like lips
slipped from skeletal metal bounds as infernal seraphim
with wings of zealotry. We were sure that the war
would never reach our streets and cluttered homes,
yet streaks of light and our defeat showed our error.
Foreign men and women from distant stars come
to tell electric tales of how our far and distant
orbit holds promise for cracks of ore and molten
veins of golden currency. They promised to shatter
our castes and social bonds. Shackles of we were given, platinum,
until our grandchildren grew thin and old to watch the tugs
pull our blood from the earth and churn it all together like mud.
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