Shanghied

I feel a little like this.

In one way.

I wish I felt the other way,

like this.

Because I adore the trees

in a snowstorm.

I like the cutting cold

and winds,

it makes you feel

alive.

But I feel a little

hazy,

a little bit solitary,

in a way I wish I didn't.

It's silly,

I think.

But once the thoughts catch

up to me,

once my head has

cleared a little,

I feel 

bad.

I'm sorry my recent posts have been

so narcissistic.

Have a little poem,

I hope you like it.

20,000 Leagues

Like the flow of green tidal

sea.

There is someplace deep,

wading in the caverns of

mermaids, abandonded

ancient shipyards.

Fingers to trace the long-lost

rot of salty masts underneath

a vindictive swirling spray

of seafoam, the flying spittle

of Neptune.

Baptismal.