the deck
lurches
as does
my stomach
the ocean doesn’t
give
a goddamn
about unsteady
sea legs
or
green gills
it hungers
for freedom from
the pale orb
that controls
its every emotion
all it can do
is lashout
at fools
with no reason
to be plumbing
the inky depths
except in the
hopeful
dismay of those
seeking to
disappear
beneath the foam
no need for
sea legs
when the silt
covers ivory bones
sea weed snaking
through empty
eye sockets