"The Waves" by Madelyn Meyers

part of our Mini Portraits of America: Day in the Life series

Photo by Mark Kassinos

The Waves

I knew our sickness was past cure
When even my old Norton announced 
	—No man is an island—
With the sweet confidence of a man who had never once
Sat marooned at a desk with
Oceanic piles of bills
	rising
		Rising
Like flotsam in the wake of Liberation Day.

And perhaps it’s because
I am not a man on my island
That I doubt men’s confidence 
In our nation holding itself 
	Together
When all I see are ocean waves:

Tariffs installed, 
	tariffs reneged,
Budgets slashed, 
	Tweets like shrapnel
Sent flying from oval offices 
	where polished floors
Await new ballrooms 
	Rising from White House rubble.

All while I sit and stare at the sinking ship of my country 
Where each citizen sits tied to their kitchen tables,	
	Bracing for impact as they
	Count coins for eggs.

Forgive me if I rip out Donne’s poem 
And send it flying over my sea 
Of late notices.

Note from the author: “As a high school educator whose pay is far below my living needs, I struggle with bills, but never more so than this year. With tariff uncertainties, rising food and gas prices, and an unruly housing market in the United States of America, my financial life is stressed, to say the least. “The Waves” was written after I read John Donne’s 17th century poem, “No Man is an Island” in my old Norton Anthology collection when I was looking for comfort. But, instead, I felt rage as I sat at my kitchen table, dealing with bills and late payment notices alone, on my island.”

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Madelyn Meyers lives and works under the labels of educator, writer, and wonderer. She has recently published her poetry in Kelp Journal, Open: Journal of Arts & Letters, and Moonstone Arts Center. Updates on her upcoming works can be found at madelynmeyers.com.