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