Like faucets
Words stream
In falsettos
Voices scream

I met a salty sailor,
Smokin' a pipe on a Boston Whaler
He said, "Boy do you know...
If a Coastie dies, where does he go?"
"He goes to Davy Jones!
But don't worry,
He's not alone!"
The salty sailor cleared his throat,
Then pushed me hard off his boat.
There I sank beneath the waves,
The white caps pushed me to my grave.
There I was in the locker,
Davy said, "report to muster!"
Then I saw my BMC,
He said, "boy come drink with me!"
We were all without a bother,
Drinking and fightin with each other!

Waters around me,
       Lungs full of brine.
              Dark tunnels form.
       Who do I look for?

Dreams flood over me,
                      Like familiar memories.
Limbs going numb,
           And then I become...

Weightless underneath waves
                  Now I will
Wait less with no more time to save.

Thus certain Fathoms I'll plummet
                Like a staff or a book
                     I'll be drowned.

Alone again.
At last.
Eyes of strangers gaze,
Worriful of the odd
Young man who eats
And drinks alone.
Never does the young man
Speak, accept to order drink.
What goes through his head
Need not concern them.
For his mind only takes input
At times such as these.
Times when he may watch,
Learn from others, of how...
How to act in their presents.
How others react in one another's.
He yearns to know how...
How to describe it.
The thoughtless observer's
Only wish
Is to make reality into ink
And then change it back again.

I wish I wished for things.
Most who can't have,
Wish for it.
I never wish.
I never get.
I just accept.
Then I never get.
What is it,
To not want,
Yet wish you could?
Wanting to want?
Or wishing to wish?