I had this dream where I relished the fray and the screaming filled my
Head all day. It was as though I had been spit here, settled in, into the pocket
Of a lighthouse on some rocky socket, off the coast of France, dear.
One afternoon, four thousand men died in the water here and five hundred
More were thrashing madly as parasites might in your blood. Now I was in a
Lifeboat designed for ten and ten only, anything that systematic would get you
Hated. It’s not a deal not a test nor a love of something fated. The selection
Was quick, the crew was picked and those left in the water got kicked off our
Pantleg and we headed for home.
Then the dreams ends when the phone rings, you doing alright he said
It’s out there most days and nights, but only a fool would complain. Anyway
Susan, if you like, our conversation is as faint as a sound in my memory, as
Those fingernails scratching on my hull.
