naught but a waste of time could so balloon
such insensitivity
and the wind gets up
and we all wind up where
coffin can't keep the polish
not that there is much relief
sounds of sheep chiseled out
earthworms and nymphs
protean protein
and maybe a spot of tea
we'll stare into the sails together
laundry on the line measuring the knots, moving the great globe
keeping time, slowly
whether or not, no matter, here we are to act. Swab the deck! Adventure beyond the pale screen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem