There was a lake just out of town,
Accessible from all around,
Where rules had all been voted down
And men did as they pleased.
Along its shorelines, one could find
Diversions of most every kind,
The basest to the near divine,
Where satisfaction teased.
And boats of course with pomp and bling
As bases for the basest things
Or bases where the moral cling
To all that’s good and true.
But best of all a boat could show
What you thought everyone should know
About how well your boat could go
About the water blue.
Of course, sometimes, a boat was lost
To storms or thieves or maintenance costs
And everybody’s nerves were tossed
In search of something stronger.
Some put armor underneath
And some on top for all to see
Or boats in boats in boats to be
In fear of loss no longer.
But one man knew the whole parade
Was shallower than where they wade
From boat to shore where he got paid
For fixing boats and barges.
He’d seen enough and done enough
To know that none were quite as tough
As all their window stickers bluffed
With much inflated charges.
He’d also learned a thing or two
About the water deep and blue
And thought he ought to share the truth
With all the anxious boaters.
But as he tried and tried and tried
With any he could pull aside,
They seemed to hear nothing besides
The sound of their own motors.
And so he took his little boat,
In view of those who loved to gloat
Who said, “That thing should barely float!”,
Out to the deep to show them.
“His test will fail,” they all thought
When he pulled out his gun and shot
A few rounds through the floor and brought
An ax out quick behind them
And chopped the rest to little bits
Until they thought he’d lost his wits
As, stroke for stroke, he didn’t quit
While everyone was guessing.
And then he stood where once it was.
The talk began to hum and buzz
About what must be left because
The boat was clearly missing.
He walked back and tried to explain
What now he thought should be quite plain
But found them rather vexed and strained
And bothered by the show.
“And reason says obviously
You have a boat that none can see
And that’s no use to flaunt what we
Think everyone should know.”
“And, still, it makes you walk about
As if a boat you’re still without.
That silly little boat can tout
Nothing that would sell us.”
And then his friends encouraged him,
“Continue not this silly whim.
Replace your boat. It’s rather grim
To hear this awful fuss.”
He let them finish. Then he spoke,
“Perhaps it’s better that I don’t.
Not that I couldn’t but I won’t
Forget about the water.”
His friends went on a little more
With arguments he’d heard before
Till satisfied that their implore
Wasn’t worth the bother.
And so he went on fixing boats
And fixing thoughts that didn’t float
But always found the common vote
Against what he would bring.
And rare it stayed that boaters cared
Of more than boats on waters where
Distraction kept away the scare
Of losing useless things.
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