The Conflicted Engine

There’s a plumb line
Straight from your boat
Down to the dark,

A weird plumb line
That both dangles
From your engine

And anchors you
Down in that dark—
You’re conflicted

In ways that rise
On that line, sink
Back to the dark.

It’s the conflict
That anchors you,
That connects

Straight from the first
Machines of Earth
To the engine

That drives your boat
Through heaving waves
You’re too anchored,

Tightly tethered,
To be able
To separate.