A cetacean swallowed eighty plastic bags or so,

A white whale  swallowed eighty plastic bags or so,

then threw up a few more too late.

He was stuffed with

So much indigestible human made detritus,

Mistaken for nice juicy jellyfish

Or nutritious squid,

That he had no room left for food,

and starved.

Ahab and Queequeg

Must be turning in their graves,

They need not have sailed on the Pequod,

Hunting for Moby Dick,
Across storm lashed seas,

Or ventured out into

Vast swelling waves,

Standing braced in the bows

Of flimsy whale boats,

Poised to hurl heavy harpoons.

They were born too soon,

If they had been twenty first century men,

They could have rested on deck on sun loungers,

Eating snacks;

Or on stormy days, dined in the ship’s restaurant

And if they threw their food wrappers overboard

Together with any other plastic packaging ,

That would have seen Moby Dick off pretty quick.

No more need for heroics, mad obsessions,

Or hurling windswept curses into roaring gales,

We’ve just gotta keep throwing stuff away,

And soon there’ll be no more whalesong,

Echoing long,

Around the oceans of our world.