a tale of the sea


i was moored on dry tortugas and i was asleep.
i was woken up by the feeling of water on my feet.
my boat was not afloat.
it was foundering.
i had a hangover from a drink
when the salt water was up to my knees i moved.
i grasped the overhead hooks and pulled myself up onto the stairs.
once there i grasped the handrail and lifted my sorry ass onto the deck.
it was clear
no luck
i packed my sock with a bunch of shrimp that was on a baggie i left the night before and went down on my back and i looked up at the sky.
the sky - oh what a face.
i kicked over to my normal kicking grounds and to my surprise no one sounded back to my normal ping.
i knew it!
my welcome was wore out way before the sink.
they don't like the sound of me
they don't like the look of me - they don't like the fricken -- well ok
so i swim
i swim, swim, swim and i like it - i love it - i swim - i swim - i swim -
but it was not easy.
my mouth was so dry - so dry
inside an ocean of wet wet wet water - so wet - i did took a drink
and i vomited - i vomited my entire whole guts, and it...thank the holy saints of the forlorn scuttled sea man....it was at the onset of my sad sail story.
i slept and woke with a sorry stomach
no food - no water - no nothing
so i lay on my back and decided to die.
i closed my eyes but my ears were open to the sound of sea
a sea that was brought to a boil by wind
a wind that was tossed by a hurry cane
but though the wave was mad, it only served to excite fish
and one sorry fish jumped up into the tormented air and landed inside my gaping mouth
it was the fish alone that kept me alive while i watched the clouds drift by
as before, the clouds made shapes and shapes they made were mine alone.
no one this far out could see the shapes of clouds were seen by me.
but soon my weary mind, tired of all the shapes, began to think of something else.
something not of sea, even though the wind was warm and gently crossed my hair..
i wanted to be somewhere else, somewhere on solid ground.
so, i took my arm and swung it into the air and let it drop into the sea, and pulled it back to me.
i did the same with the other arm and kicked with both my feet, until i had myself afloat but still way out at sea.
so far out at sea.

that little fish that jumped the wave
and gave himself to me
was sorry gone and now i long
for more than that guppy
my belly ached from lack of food
but worse from overwork
as i swam and swum to who knows where
yet i am still not there
the darkness fell like winter wet
yet still i swam and swum
i saw some lights in distance glum
and swum up to the back
i climbed a rope for anchor's sake
and slunk down on the deck
i heard some voices in the boat
the kind ready for sleep
i waited till the snoring came
and crept down to the keep,
and grasped a hand of pure water and sucked it long and deep
i smelled the smell of happy folk
the oils, the smoke, the drink..
and figured i had a small handful of hours until the owners came back from sleep.
but the air was cold and i was tired
so i curled into a sail
and let my mind find happy time
and that was easy....
before the sun had climbed aboard i found a face not mine
a woman's face a stare at me but with a temperate clime
she did not speak but spoke instead of my dire circumstance
she gave me bread and powdered milk, a pair of tortured pants and looked at me like i should know the meaning of this strange and silent glance
i ate the bread while she looked on and asked her for some wet
to water down the powdered milk but she did not know yet
the reason she was here with me or why i was aboard
but when i heard the big bad bark i played a sad strung chord
i slipped back into the wet warm sea
and floated on my back
and watched the wails on which i slept fade off into the west

it's times like these when men achieves the things for which they're born
but me - oh no - i'm twist and torn by wave and wave and wind
the world is big and i am small
why do i have to write at all
it makes me sick to make this thick and sound more than it is
the wave it make my ear go numb till all i hear is drum
i can not know which way to go for sun has gone to sleep
i flail and flail - the failures come in waves like pounding rocks
on a dead head with slight the light
inside it just makes a happenstance that i am where i am

my foot touched sand
this must be land
so with both feet i go go go
my weary legs can lay no eggs
my back is burnt and sore
so i fall down on a soft sand shore and sleep the sleep of black
rem sleep comes
and all i do
is work the work as if i was ashore
on dry land yore,
but worse, a working stiff

i feel as if i am adrift
my body still at sea
i know this feeling won't last long
it's just a part of me.