Thin


If there wasn’t already enough burnt fat on the back burner
My notions would be pure
My soul set at ease
Like Jah it’d be the cure
But little sister I implore you
Stop with these silly missions that fail to reach light
Close thy tunnel
Put away your kite
For…
What small wind are we going to sail on?
Drink air, drink sea water, drink the journey along….

Me…
I am the pirate with a ship that hails no crew
With mugs on the deck
Which contain no brew
Ripped up sail
Maps in braille
Lost at sea
Oh….woes me
My navigation is wrecked-
The sea gulls laugh till death
And I find myself drowning
In your last breath
You saved your words
I guess
And I still can’t dock this fucking boat
Don’t I deserve rest?
Maybe not- mimicking my flag
Swaying in the wind
Ay-Ay Captain….one knife, and two shots of gin.
So I sail back out
On a water way to hell
Compass in hand
I ring the bell.
Come to think of it, I had a crew on ship
Here’s one of them I decapitated, first mate John Smith
And I laugh…because
Throughout life, we execute people all the time
Sailing our ships for that treasure that doesn’t exist, hunting One
Piece on the Grand Line.

-Steve M. Rich

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About Oil Underneath

I drink glasses of cold water.
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