Go and espy what the chasm might upload
Oh, oh, Mariner Joe
You have a long ways in sea-time yet to go…
A thresher is a piece of agricultural equipment
That separates the seed from the stalks
Use became widespread in the early 1800s
Countless grisly accidents occurred;
Mechanization took hold
The Occident got waylaid and old.
The USS Thresher, America's first nuclear submarine
Was lost at sea, one-hundred-twelve sailors
And seventeen shipyard workers
Gone on April 10, 1963—the sea, the sea, the blimey—
Our Lady Thresher…imploded during deep-dive…
There is nothing to the enucleation of the eyeball
A new dance from the South of France
Where nothing is off but then you politely cough
Meanwhile doing the foxtrot in your store-boughts.
To all foreigners who descend from foreign lands
Your land was always this one
And you just don’t understand
Every snaked-eyed neighbour has got to
Shake they bosses hand, upstanding in grandstand
Decamping with sock puppet to Maryland
Sot-weed factor country, curdled milks and zinc honeys.
The last time I got this horribly lost
I found myself awaking nailed to a fishmonger’s cross
Wearing as a necklace a live albatross
Selling this crummy halibut and not giving a bloody toss.
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