In this dream I am the drunken boat
And in the end I push off as easily
As though by a child’s hand
Into a tiny summer puddle

Having plied the world’s oceans
In inebriated storms banging
Down like the angry fists of gods

Cresting a towering storm wave
To the sound of thunder and lightning
Before sinking back down into a trough

Adrift on a still sea watching a full moon
Rise and slowly spill across the placid waters
As though a rosy paint spread across a canvas

The old boat eases into safe harbor
Spent as though hung over and tired
torn by all the winds of the earth

Now a bar with view to the sea
Sit silently and listening to the lies
Of men