Image courtesy of The Public Domain Archive
Crossing
aboard the USS Decatur
Western Pacific Ocean
May of that year adrift
I was belowdecks
in lower bunk
torpor when
I heard them
thudding against
the hull like
a blocking sled:
I dashed up
to the fantail
and gazed out
at the sea's
midnight
amplitude:
myriad oh so
numberless as
spume white humps
bobbing like
drowned ambulances
in the moon glare
and each pissing up
its own thin
yellow thread
out the blowhole as
in unison they
looked up
each
with the same furrowed
brow the same
crenellated
grin the
same cracked
eyes
bidding me
in good cheer
or was it stern
rebuke
to strip off
my skivvies
and jump
ship
