Boat Song One (2001)

I might have made
much of this
but didn’t.
Other whims fired
my sense, luring me
toward gossamer
declines. Could have
been a contender
but the rends rear-
ended me and
and now I can’t get
much older
in my irrelevance to you:
So there isn’t
much to do but board
this leaky boat and
sail on till all shores
sink beneath
the grayblue wave,
writing on
of tackle and
hook and bucket
and oar. I might have
called this
once a song, but now
it’s only singing,
chanteys for
the oar-strokes
as everything
turns below.