Two Years Behind the Mast

Thomas Kretz

I went to sea as a boy
But my Portsmouth dirtier by far,
My channels the Ohio and Mississippi.

A quartet had jumped ship in New Orleans
In love with their own imporvised jazz
And as cabin boy I carried blame

Like slop or stew to the captain fierce.
The first mate threw me over
For laughs one night.

Not so lucky as Gulliver or Crusoe
I had to compomise with male
Dolphins, only land in sight,

Continually pestering for more caresses,
An unknown distance on the fins,
Reaching shore exhausted,

Only to find the island a cove
Of sirens expecting another Odysseus
In no hurry to return to surprise Penelope.

Each time I closed the book I took
A fresh look at the bottlenose
Winking from the cover.

©CopyrightThomas Kretz