The stewards didn't know they were sinking.
They murmured, "May I offer you a sandwich?"
They didn't know they were sinking.
The water was at the promenade deck.
Only radicals got in the lifeboats.
They didn't like the sandwiches.
No one liked the radicals.
No one could tell they were sinking.
They all sank at the same rate. 


(Published, with the title "Relativity Sinks the Titanic," in The Louisville Review #2, Spring 1977.) 


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