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Poet Commentaries

Letting that Ship sail

This was written after a week of running up against arrogant people with low EQ. Now, I am not prejudice but I wish they would learn to defer to stronger people when the situation calls for stable.  I have an average to low IQ for instance and a vague memory for facts and statistics.  I defer to people around me that have a fully functional brain.  

My wife gets me to open jars.  She is not silly.  She does not in pride say she does not need me, try for three minutes on her own and then, in frustration, smash the glass to get the contents.  A bit of humbling is required.  For my part I do not look for hours for stuff I lost refusing to ask; it just takes one question to find out my glasses are on my head.  I do not ever second guess a brides seating plan knowing full well she knows what is best. See how it works.

Sometimes the scale of this is serious and certain arrogant people make life miserable for all around them.  Concede is not part of their vocabulary.   (the people this is written about will never know it is about them…I will offend no one. Pretty sweet actually)

Letting that ship sail

Carcasses steeping in the hold.
No colander to fish
for bones, bits of teeth
and clumps of hair.
The bilge pump clogged,
keel screeches on bottom.

Bouncing along behind,
me and that guy,
still attached and alive;
chunks of our flesh
flung over his shoulder
and dripping from jowls.

The captain’s lips smack,
his tongue rummages
and his finger digs,
jigger dancing in slop,
trying to rid the discomfort
of sinew between teeth.

With each wave, a jerk,
trying to yank free
from nibble and niggle,
to reel in the anchor
to load up the hold
and slacken the drag.

He wipes his brow
and sniffs at the rag.
He has no olfactory
or other sense
for steeped Pea Soup;
his fog horn silent.

The snap of a flag
his only navigation,
the master pilot’s stern
warnings unheard;
now just a serf’s whisper
in the ship’s wake.

We in collateral wake;
Pilot and I collide
smiles, winks and apologies
Pilot rises up naked
and bare foot surfs
getting twenty feet of air.

Epilogue

A bit disconcerting
the feel of fine sand
on my naked ass.
The look of breakers
from the shore.
The sight of the captain
grasping flotsam and jetsam.

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