by Samuel De Lemos
Just got into to it with my wife,
God bless her, she worries about life.
Reminds me of the guy in Steinbeck’s novel—
He loves boats, even lives in Monterey.
I can smell that coastline as we speak,
and hear the seagulls yakking away,
flying like silver specks
contrasted against the cerulean blue ocean
of Monterey Bay.
I forgot that gents name,
but he fixed his boat
like it was his religion,
he had it on stilts—
Always working on getting it seaworthy.
Friends would come by and admire
his diligence and craft—
this went on for years.
Until doc disclosed his secret:
‘He’s got a phobia of the ocean,
he’ll never finish the project,
because he’s simply afraid.’
All that time invested in
creating a perfect seaworthy vessel.
All for nothing.
And life, my dear life,
all I want to do is sail
in your deepest ocean,