Satisfied with your craft
Turning out shallow
Wake after wake of far-
Fetched mixed metaphors
Under the sonar that seeks
To find you out before
You can escape, sneak
Back now to the safe harbor
Of the ship’s slip, moored
And with the fickle wind finally
Gone out of your sails, fall back in-
To that narcotic,
Familiar deep,
Sleep—
You’ve earned your keep.
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