pirates shmirates—let’s cross the ocean we’ll unhitch a schooner fast at night sail south or west, away from land its maddening gridlock where we squabble in August hotness over which lane or who gets the bike the dog on board can be named Matey his rear left leg made of a teak post you do the fishing and I’ll worry about oranges not about when we’ll find time for walking Matey gets the small fish, curls at our feet when we sleep on the deck on the quiet nights water splashing against the hull will often surprise us you can be the boat and I’ll be the water I’ll come over the hull disguised as a flash storm, an unfathomable wave, as Surprise as the Lack of Expectation you’ll be the Time After Everything was Going as Planned and at that minute when our moments meet we won’t be undertowed, landlocked, body-bound but the compound escaping impossible ground
