Battleship 1976

Everyone has bled, but only women and poets need to bleed.

Everyone fears and prepares, but only sailors and poets

Train to hold a knife-blade to civilizations’ throat.

Everyone envisions the past, its future, but only presidents and poets

Preside over free souls as commander-in-chief.

I am Battleship 1976.

I am ultimate scion to the first Iron-clad warship; my engines

Run on terror and pride that drove Vikings to America.

See me in conflict and it’s already too late—

An armada you yet cannot see is in range, and awaits only

My signal to fire on your position.

I am Battleship 1976.

In the age of intergalactic travel, my sister-ship is the NCC-1701 Enterprise.

God served as admiral upon a ship of my design when he

Won the war in Heaven against Lucifer.

Ancient poet Lao Tzu drowned in a drunken midnight swim,

Believing he could cross the Yang Tze river to board me.

I am Battleship 1976.

I am the vessel that every child with Lego bricks tries to build.

I am the ship that mothers pray their sons serve on,

Whenever their country has a draft for war.

Mine is the name on God’s own lips, a name

God whispered before he first spoke his name.

I am Battleship 1976.