SAVE THE MAN
save the man
put a beer in his hand
give his hammock a friendly push
let him sip and doze and dream
and repeat
it’s sunday and not quite time
to get the coals ready to grill
in between scenes
the last a little obscene, disturbing
might be titled
part II: my octopus lover
not an orifice left unpenetrated
by that aquatic miscreant
suckers, suction, weird
shook it off
sipped some more
looked the other way
and lost myself in the dancing leaves
of the closest tree
when i fell out of that tree
and down the stairs of the drafty building
where i lived some twenty-odd years ago
did i spill a little on my bare chest
i drank it down, crushed the can and threw it on the pile
i got up, got another, and am now breaking sticks for the fire
whispering for monday to stay put and not say a word
it’s only but three o’clock
WHO IS CAPTAIN B?
Captain B. Seafarer. Lover of shore leave. Collector of heads. Disseminator of tales. Twitter: @NPeligeiro
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3/20 poems by Captain B
