Cassandra de Alba
Titanic as Kalopsia
A head-on collision with the iceberg
would have saved the Titanic. Still a disaster,
of course – her first hundred feet telescoped
in, crushing people, allowing the ocean
entrance. But she could float with her first
four compartments flooded. The choice
made, the wrong one, was avoidance.
Avert disaster by swinging to the side,
let the iceberg scrape holes into the hull,
too many for the lackluster precautions
that tried to earn unsinkable.
But who among us would not have made
that choice? When confronted with an obstacle,
do you keep to your course? Do you flinch?
Do you go down with the ship, or try to run
every time your life is about to collide
with something bigger than itself?
Who among us has a contingency plan,
enough lifeboats? I will not be a survivor
of my body. None of us will. As long
as we try to avoid the crash, we will
succumb to it, every time. James Cameron
had it wrong. That is not the love story
to write for a sinking ship. Let me tell you
a true one. A man who survived lives
to be a consultant on a movie about
the Titanic. On the day they film
the sinking, he sneaks on to set
in costume, poses as an extra, tries
this time to go down with the ship.
He is discovered by the director;
again, he fails, is escorted off
the model deck before the cameras
roll. What compelled him to get it right
this time? Who among us would not
relive their darkest hour for a more
fitting end? There are things the heart
does not go on from. None of this
is unsinkable.
Cassandra de Alba’s work has appeared or is forthcoming in Red Lightbulbs, Strange Horizons, and Drunken Boat, among other publications. Her most recent chapbooks are called Bloodlust (No Spaceships Allowed) and Special Bitch Academy. She lives in Massachusetts and blogs at outsidewarmafghans.tumblr.com.
Titanic as Kalopsia
A head-on collision with the iceberg
would have saved the Titanic. Still a disaster,
of course – her first hundred feet telescoped
in, crushing people, allowing the ocean
entrance. But she could float with her first
four compartments flooded. The choice
made, the wrong one, was avoidance.
Avert disaster by swinging to the side,
let the iceberg scrape holes into the hull,
too many for the lackluster precautions
that tried to earn unsinkable.
But who among us would not have made
that choice? When confronted with an obstacle,
do you keep to your course? Do you flinch?
Do you go down with the ship, or try to run
every time your life is about to collide
with something bigger than itself?
Who among us has a contingency plan,
enough lifeboats? I will not be a survivor
of my body. None of us will. As long
as we try to avoid the crash, we will
succumb to it, every time. James Cameron
had it wrong. That is not the love story
to write for a sinking ship. Let me tell you
a true one. A man who survived lives
to be a consultant on a movie about
the Titanic. On the day they film
the sinking, he sneaks on to set
in costume, poses as an extra, tries
this time to go down with the ship.
He is discovered by the director;
again, he fails, is escorted off
the model deck before the cameras
roll. What compelled him to get it right
this time? Who among us would not
relive their darkest hour for a more
fitting end? There are things the heart
does not go on from. None of this
is unsinkable.
Cassandra de Alba’s work has appeared or is forthcoming in Red Lightbulbs, Strange Horizons, and Drunken Boat, among other publications. Her most recent chapbooks are called Bloodlust (No Spaceships Allowed) and Special Bitch Academy. She lives in Massachusetts and blogs at outsidewarmafghans.tumblr.com.
