The King of Nantucket
by Gabe Stommel
Friends he has a plenty;
Yacht club privileges are many.
Won’t find him at the Chicken Box.
Knows where to dig for clam crops.
Accounts for every flower and fauna
Making his patronage to the Pacha Mama.
Bobbing and diving amidst the surf
Reigning over his sovereign turf.
From Madaket to Third Point, hear his roar
A sky of phosphorescence to explore.
Humanity perched atop his shoulder
Every day its cries sound bolder.
Seemingly his greatest dread
Fulfilling legends of the dead.
And he can’t help but stop and think
Just in time to lift his drink
And raise his glass to history told
From the darkest corners of the ship’s strong hold.
His ancestors whispering in his ear
Reminding him of prophecies near.
They tell him “Don’t forget your roots!”
You still have time to fill those boots.
Now take a breath and watch the waves
Say a prayer for the good old days.
From the finest island in the sea,
He’s real Nantucket Royalty.
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