Because if you study those
Decrepit maps curled up in the
corners of antique stores and
the menus of sleepy little diners
Where retired navy men gather to drink coffee
Murky as the water they worked on
For their entire uncertain lives
You would be studying
what used to be Slaughter County
Where it remains tranquilized
By narcotic gray skies
Next to islands that awkwardly
break off from the mainland
Creating channels
Where anxiety is drained
Into the population of
the suicidal indigenous