I am the captain of a broach boat.
I set sail across purple wool,
a scented breast with a dip.
My sailors are sick.
The heaving wash on.
We do not proceed.
It's that damn pin at the back.
The passengers sit still in their silver cabin.
The food is done and the bilge is full.
One day,
the thoughtless lady will find seasick
on her twin set and set us loose.
