EQUANIMITY

Sailing. 

Seasick

heaving
on the slick

deck of some
swollen

little vessel—
groaning nauseous

gripping
the seat. Pathetic, but this

is somehow
vast-

ly preferable
to what's underneath.

Anxious—

doesn't really 

do the feeling

justice. Any minute 

now I 

might be—hurled

blindly 

from the warped ship

into a freezing midnight 

sea.