Sailors clubs are better than the rich ones,
We've got sails instead of super boats.
The gentlemen, (the ones we've got)
Don't drink fine wines but draft beers.

There's no sparkle of gold spoons or diamond bowls,
But still a Sailor's Club is better than a rich one.
Why? Because where else will I dance,
A Sailor's jig.

It’s the early morning that does it for me

I don’t mean to seek it
But I am sought in these quiet empty-full hours -
All or nothing out-with-the-bath-water seclusion.

(Delusions of liqueur
cocksure
Every flavor of azure)

Oh god what I would give to extend the great expanse of 4am, ribbon slick and taut as a ******

And me, warm and creative.

It’s the early morning that does it for me

I’m staying up with a song.

-Call-

Respond

Eyes and lips and abandoned ships
Mirages of **** below long, fluted throats
Gliding between notes
and me too

Ready to drown you.

(It’s the early morning that does it for me)

As you give yourself over to the caresses of the mistress
and dream of flying over perfect fields of wheat

and then land

and then wake

≈furrowed≈

disappointed to find
a cold pillow where a head should be asleep

I release my held breath and meet you
Half way

I was singing
I say
And collapse in a heap

Wet hair
Bare feet
It’s dawning and day

Closing my eyes
Sunset at sunrise
Holding onto a secret key

I dream of the sea

Sea calm,
Crew slept,
Dark side,
Sea kept,
Tide raced,
Waves crept,
Crew woke,
Sails prepped,
Coiled spring,
Waves leapt,
Overboard,
Crew swept,
Left behind,
They wept.

For the sea has no respect
For the nautically inept …

Peel back the layers
of my rural purgatory.

Figure out
the critical junctures
of where I once stood,
with this one,
now on TV, and this one,
surfing in Hawaii.

I was a **** girl, spreading
my legs for sailors, and
getting crucified for it.

I am guilty
of still imagining
our beautiful possibilities.

Death may yet
claim him, and my ****
are still round
and firm.

Nature is my mistress, bitter sweet, bitter sweet; the scent of young lilies and regret, for a woman's heart is slender, deep yet dark and tender, and as silent as the body's first caress.

My mother and my farther, and my brothers and my sisters, and my uncles, and my aunts are all quite fair, but something doesn't sit right, it's not quite in the spotlight, I'm looking at a world that isn't square.

The plastic spoon to stir your tea, the carrier bag you got for free,
the slow decline of honey bees, the friend that slept with you and me, the tragedy of fantasy, the whisper carried on the breeze, that traveled the century's with sailors on the seven seas.

Distracted by the rhythmic words, we listen to the humming birds, the nature of your natural eye encircles us like butterflies, the creature has it's mothers eyes, the lure of love flies on the wing, to take the insect and the sting, to follow ends to sticky ends, bitter sweet, bitter sweet; you're so sweet!

I love you honey want you be my girl.
Won't you be my girl for just one night.

people
                                                                                      destroyed




blowing
              forcing
                                                   striking



           water
                    deep
          deep


      lost
                                                                            wrecked





                                                                                                   unknown
               helpless


                                                   sailors.