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Poem #3

Life has been pretty rough for me as of late. I’ve been through the wringer, and I’m just trying to keep my shit together long enough to grow as a person. Thank God for poetry, even if this poetry isn’t any good.

Law of Salvage

And as much as I’d like a whispered life in the woods, I know I’m meant for an ocean full of hurricanes. A twisted, unavoidable destiny. It’s a heavy task to captain a ship–I’m not there anymore, sent overboard and lost at sea. No, I was


by a mutinous crew mate, and now I’m swimming out into deep water, ignoring tentacles that tease my toes and hoping to be pulled from down under, given a ration of bread and rum, even some shelter as I relearn the ropes

while suffering from scurvy. Indomitable, I swab the deck, hoist the mainsail, set our course, and prepare for promotion: a distinguished sailor. I don epaulets, step down proud from the quarterdeck, my eye to the graying horizon, ready for a squall.


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Poem #33

Striped I fell from a dock in the summer, split my hand open like a ripened fig, blood drip-dropping to ruddy the waves while I gulped down salty red, I swam to shore, hand raised above my head, looki


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