Shanghai at Sea
Sailing on and on, and on and on I’m a lost soul with his beard grown long floating over the still waters while a calm wind blows. But below me in the deep, I know that trouble is bubbling up. I can feel it.
My companions are bedraggled rum sots and dreamers. We keep our ship tidy, but rage through the evening, pulling great beasts from the brine and singing holly holly to the bright night sky. We’ll say it never ends.
We come to shore where we greet the natives. They smile at us like gods, and curse at us like them too – in moments of weakness and under their breath. I don’t know if they mean to destroy us. I suspect they don’t know either. We never stay long enough to find out.
It’s always back at sea, back at sea.
We’re heading somewhere.
Where?
I do not know.