Poem #3

Life has been pretty rough for me as of late. I’ve been through the wringer, and I’m just trying to keep my shit together long enough to grow as a person. Thank God for poetry, even if this poetry isn’t any good.

Law of Salvage

And as much as I’d like a whispered
life in the woods, I know I’m meant
for an ocean full of hurricanes. A twisted,
unavoidable destiny. It’s a heavy task
to captain a ship–I’m not there anymore,
sent overboard and lost at sea. No, I was


by a mutinous crew mate, and now
I’m swimming out into deep water,
ignoring tentacles that tease my toes
and hoping to be pulled from down
under, given a ration of bread and rum,
even some shelter as I relearn the ropes

while suffering from scurvy. Indomitable,
I swab the deck, hoist the mainsail,
set our course, and prepare for promotion:
a distinguished sailor. I don epaulets,
step down proud from the quarterdeck, my eye
to the graying horizon, ready for a squall.


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