dusk forge
In today’s sea of discourse it’s easy to get seasick
It feels like you’re a carpenter in a ship’s hull
With a hole expanding under pressure so quick
It threatens to drown the contents of your skull.
You’re a seafaring Sisyphus, a maritime martyr,
Bailing out the whirlpool of Poseidon’s throne,
Struggling to keep your tricorn from becoming a marker
For an underwater tombstone.
The currents carry you toward your final release
Your body to be marooned in the coral reef
You have a single shot in your musket,
But rather than turning it on yourself,
Take aim at the pallbearer’s mitts,
And free yourself from his nautical cartel.
Don’t seal your will in a bottle and cast it ashore
Make your final stand against the tide.
Drop your anchor to the ocean floor
And let Davy Jones decide.
To your greatest fears you must never succumb
You needn’t outrun the fates you need only run out the rum.
timber tree
tardy trench
modest crest