call me Ishmael
call me such, though
I will not answer,
nor tell the Story
of good and evil,
if those things be,
they are not among the stars,
the stones, the fishes, the sea
vagabonds, all
they ride the whaled waves
that drown
the Captain’s words
they are there for the bread
not to break it
still He howls louder
the salt waters cut the keel black,
swishing quiet, unknowing as the night
only He creates this plaintive plight
the others hoist sails to wily winds
untroubled by their enchantment
bellies full, ears shut
to His harpooned harangues, while
His eternal curse is to parse
black from white
have had writers block for about three weeks--decided to turn to Melville for inspiration--did not get much