The Jolly Roger –

A black cat and a white dog, a multi-coloured parrot grabs my shoulder, whispers from its hook ‘that flag needs work.’
Black-beard and Bluebeard press-ganged me, never a sailor, never a crow’s nest climber, can’t swim either.
Rigging and rope batter my arms, burn my legs, and there’s ‘Cuba!’ on our horizon.
‘Our’?  No, it’s ‘I’ and only ‘I’.
Sharks came by outside mid-ships, weepy wet and hungry, can eat them later.
Then dry sand just after a tide of wet, gasping for something, got it just then, a free minute or two to see it all, so looking down at an anthill, a thin black line spreads out and attacks a thin red line, War is everywhere today.
Here to make brown for smoke, President Clinton was a fan, and women will put them in their mouths just to prove they can.
Barter beads and lazy thinking later, boredom sets-in on around-the-world yachting psychopaths – ‘kill, steal, burn, and laugh; bag up the brown!’
Brown bagged up, hammocks swinging in an air of gratitude and sweet-smelling nectar smoke, poker cards and a stowaway vexillophile parrot.

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2 Responses to The Jolly Roger –

  1. Vice says:

    Dude I love your work.


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