From First Draft

Last night I did a poem in the style of a dead poet. I chose William Topaz McGonagall and mashed it up with The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. One woman showed up in the middle of the poem and said after wards that she really liked my narrative poetry. I really did not know what else to say except thank you.

The Edmund Fitzgerald Disaster

Beautiful ship on Lake Superior
The one they call Gitche Gumee
Alas I'm sorry to say
That twenty nine lives had been taken away
Which will be remembered for a very long time

Twas about seven o'clock at night
And the wind blew with all its might
And the main hatchway caved in
And the dark clouds seemed to frown
And the Witch of November came stealin'
I'll take down the Edmund Fitzgerald

When the ship left some mill in Wisconsin
The crew and the captain well seasoned
But the gales of November came slashing
Which put the good ship and crew in peril
And many of the crew with fear did say
I hope God will send us safe across to Whitefish Bay

But when the ship late at night rang its bells
The north wind came loud and angry
And the wires on the ship made a tattletale sound
On that November day
Which will be remembered for a very long time

So the ship sailed on with all its might
And the shore of Whitefish Bay soon in sight
And the crew's heart's felt light
Thinking they would enjoy themselves on Thanksgiving Day
With the friends at home they love most dear
And wish them all a Happy Thanksgiving

So the ship moved slowly toward Whitefish Bay
Until it was the middle of the night
Then it might of split up, or capsized
And down went the crew of the Edmund Fitzgerald
The November witch did loudly bray
Because twenty nine lives had been taken away
on a November day of 1975
Which will be remembered for a very long time

As soon as the catastrophe came to be known
On the faces of the wives and the sons and the daughters
The church bell cried in Detroit town
Good heavens, the Edmund Fitzgerald has gone down
And the ship that was built in Cleveland
Filled all the people's hearts with sorrow
And made them for to turn pale
Because none of the crew were saved to tell the tale
How this disaster happened on that November day
Which will be remembered for a very long time

It must have been an awful sight
To witness the ship sink in the dusky moonlight
While the November Witch did laugh, and the angry did bray
Of the good ship the Edmund Fitzgerald
Oh ill fated ship the Edmund Fitzgerald

I must now conclude my lay
By telling the world fearlessly without the least dismay
That your hull would not have given away
Had it not been filled with so much iron ore
At least many sensible men confesses
For the stronger our ships do build
The less chance we have of being killed.