THE COCKSCOMB
AND THE NUISANCE
I was so tired, I was so beleaguered, I ran
away from home, taking this stupid boat to
Sicily. A freighter, no less; I had to work.
Why me? The passage was free - Liverpool,
Bremen and all the rest; numerous stops,
to make the test. Oil barrels, sacks of
wheat flour, crates of cloth. When I got
to where I was going, they said 'get off
and die, or do it again.' I did it. The
journey home always seems shorter.
-
Like a pimply-faced teen I asked myself
again - 'why am I here?' No, of course,
no answer. I rebelled. I ranted like a seaman.
I began to think with my dick - I probed,
I pummeled. Every shoreline female I could
find, I fucked. God, it was all so easy.
Free time on the shoreline
-
Grog and all by the gallon.
I was twenty-two and
hung like a stallion.
No comments:
Post a Comment