We Shall Sea

I’m not gonna get that boat
Never again to Chesapeake Bay
that back in the day sent packing

You would think, having eons ago,
arisen from the sea, we would be
bound to safe harbor

yet resentment floats our boat &
we wave in passing the point of
a haven, unmooring our humanity
for an edge in ebb tide.

Seems we forever stream into
a gulf of chaos, an abyss of our
choosing, berthed by bitter navigation,
and of course, a course, we can’t correct


I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.


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sharing marginalia of the moment
with poesy pretensions on parade–
for over a decade

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