Door banged, slammed
Lights low, room tight
Paul felt in jail
Guards’ eyes, slant
Men like monkeys; hairy in pain
Echoes of shouts ocean-length waves
Six ships were they in Southern Sea
On decks of ships bombs came bursting
They came of those who sought whaling
Chained walls and hooks, large and hanging
On those vessels, seamen raging
With fists and words, filled of hating
Did everything, aimed for fighting
Paul and friends, tens and were mixed
Genders, colors, ages, races
Had one goal, saving nature
Tusks to deer to hawks, rhinos
In seas, rarest, like seals and whales
“I do not care. We won the game.
They lost their time and their money.”
Manly, Paul said:
“In jail or not, we are victors.
Season is gone and they got none.”
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