AS THIS ANONYMOUS
MR. MELVILLE
I am often found waiting, and like
this I wait - silence, exile, and cunning
together. The sled of time, my seaward
dogs are pulling, and I watch them go.
Goodbye old land - it is good to see
you pass. I hear tolling bells - Trinity
and Church, any of those harbor streets
around me; yes, I am ever and always
your stranger. In this tiny prison of things,
I am kept, but I am not guilty.
-
Call me what you want - I am gargantuan
like the whale. I seize, and thrash about. I
seek a comfort among the something : windlass
scurry, ribald aces, dogged sailor aloof at sea,
regurgitate again this sorry tale to me.
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