Sea Shanties

it’s a little bit like aching

when I wake up early on

before the light of the day



before the waves clash and wash

splash against the hulls of pearly sailboats

while the wind torments aqua and vermillion sails

a technicolor kind of torrent

and I find a bliss in it, a sort of heaven on the waters

letting my legs swim and my feet reach sinking depths

retract from the deep too afraid to feel cold or nibblers

too afraid to look down or out and see a face that is not mine

I find peace in it, in drowning, but not dying

losing and sinking deeper and darker into it

where entrails of water reeds and murky beasts twist me

chew on my skin to rid me of my fears

rid me of my eyes and my soul for it’s seen too much

embraced too much, too many totems of sunken treasure and sea shanties



it’s just that I don’t want to be that way anymore

lost on the waters of the golden lake

where the mountains lay sleeping like giants

where that house sits in the earth, across the docks

where she waits everyday, and he wiles

he yawns and he stretches and he faints in bed

after hours at his computer, without his boat

without the lake, without his fishing rod

without the will for life, the means to live

but with plenty of water to drown in