Fishermen and speedboaters have never
got on well together

A Curse on Pig Boats

Floater, when you of fun partake,
Your greatest joy lies in your wake.
Awake! a wake, a wake, a wake,
Your thumping waves are my mistake,
That, breaking stir in me such ire,
As no deluge can drench the fire.
Mindless, you roar about the lake,
Skiers in tow for no sane sake
Except to desecrate my peace.
Pig Boater, wake, awake, surcease!
And yet I feel some sympathy:
How desolate your life must be
That when you've one free moment found,
You rack it with such wake and sound - -
Like buzzing of possessed bee
Or rocket 'reft of sanity;
And this is your sublimity?

Go back to town!

June, 1988