Wake up—quick, where
are you?
At all, or
were you?—Out there yet-
again, I guess—
the only ever
sober sailor
pitching—will-less
and wild across
the wine-
dark water—remembering
but not
quite,
the swollen taste of
the wind! Your
cap!
You're
windy, cap!—keep this up,
and the brass-
ness of your
buttons will surely snap!
And: what shall we
What shall we do with a—
What shall we do with a—do with a—do with a
another repetitive
song about loss?
Resolve
Resolve
Resolve it—yes,
you will become
lost—
in watery labyrinths now
and then—and present
ly find your way
back home
again,
to bed,
again
but next time,
not quite—that is
to say; a little
bit less—
indecisively-
so,
and wet.
