Pirate in Itchy Wool

Unpleasant. Foul Tongued.  Abbrasive.

And I walk with a limp because Moby (Dick!) took me leg-

But when I look in the mirros, 

A girl with strange, green eyes!?

you have---

No loyalty- WALK THE god-DAMNED! PLANK!

and She disapprears beneath the dull, grey.

I mourn in my Captian's Quarters

and try not so spill ale on my wreched sweater.

I spit the little sea water I don't swallow into the eyes of my enemies-

while smiling a gap-toothed grin at me lack friends

And hope I don't look as dried out as I feel.

Later.

When the high seas drag me vessel far from land,

leaning over the edge!

I peer into the water and out-sing sirens 

And try not to scratch at the ugly! wool sweater

me mother didn't knit for me as a girl.

'Yer seeing-glass is smudged.'

I am not a mermaid!

I am a cursing Sailor with a scraggly, brown beard

and a grey wool sweater (two sizes too small)

yellow rubber boots that help me wade through

the piles of shit!

(Land lubbers) try to pass off as treasure.

But She appears again-

with frightened! strange eyes

And tries not to limp because Peter took her heart.

Wendy.