His eyes intact.
His ship still safe at
The shores.
Sings about wretched
Winds at the edge of
The world.
He plays music,
Dances with other crew
Members. Drinks,
Whores and talks of
Big philosophies but
Never sets sail.
Says the water is
Cold. Reads too much
Into weather and
Anticipates storms.
His overthinking has
Drowned his ship a
Hundred times in his mind.
Not standing the irony.
In an attempt to find
Their deprived glory.
His compasses-give
Themselves away to
The daily rust.
Seems like he doesn't
Come to senses.
Not anytime soon as
He's busy compiling
Types of knots one can
Tie to anchor ships safely.
So far there's only one.
Which he hasn't been
Able to untie in years
From the docks.