MARLEYBONES
At sea. One thing or another -
the wild shoot of a sperm whale spouting,
the peg-legged domain of one Peg-Leg Pete.
We entered through a barrel-keg ramp,
slimed and steamed as it was with matter -
things unknown in the wily way of oceans
and travel. Crates with markings that frightened:
grease-pencil scrawls on wood, diagrammed
instructions in Arabic and Hindi or some such
slashing swirl. Each morning, at sickness and
dawn alike, a sprawl of liquid, a broth of eggs.
We finally rounded some Cape or other,
a pigeon-grace of escape and space.
Back on land, even if only for a day
or two, it felt like Creation had
stared anew. Ah! Creation
had started anew!
At sea. One thing or another -
the wild shoot of a sperm whale spouting,
the peg-legged domain of one Peg-Leg Pete.
We entered through a barrel-keg ramp,
slimed and steamed as it was with matter -
things unknown in the wily way of oceans
and travel. Crates with markings that frightened:
grease-pencil scrawls on wood, diagrammed
instructions in Arabic and Hindi or some such
slashing swirl. Each morning, at sickness and
dawn alike, a sprawl of liquid, a broth of eggs.
We finally rounded some Cape or other,
a pigeon-grace of escape and space.
Back on land, even if only for a day
or two, it felt like Creation had
stared anew. Ah! Creation
had started anew!
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