The Whistler's Song Poem by Michael Chandler

Depression was only a side affect of the madness
an hour's hand that rocked back and forth carouseled your mind and every night her legs answered each question

the whistler's song that put you to sleep was high and out of tune
the dirt from under your lip kept you numb; turned you into a fool
before the reckoning that never arrived

I'd say! a deep dive taste like a gun shot!
The old man pointed and you answered the call of all lost men
A common tale that will never be forgiven, never be forgotten