history while wet

I woke up this morning with nothing on my mind.

not God nor woman nor Pluto nor Priest!

I’m starting the journey from scratch into the doldrums of a new day.

after my first cup I reevaluated my circumstance to find

nothing but a blank space saturating the active space I rely on.

so I've chosen the ancient mariners to be my guides through

the great sea of nothingness laying before me.

but even these fearless mariners are not immune to serious criticism.

how many will fall from the edge of the Earth?

how will sea serpents respond to the invasion of their waters?

might the serpents entertain the thought to eat the mariners?

these questions deserve answers.

how else could one explain the ways in which these old salts

navigated the violent seas when the Earth was as flat

as any circle drawn by the hand of man? (see Leonardo)

–– better to accept what I've done here, and call it a great success.

I'll need a dose of subterfuge and a smear of shenanigans 

to shake things up, but––– who but me and the sacred drowned

would know how to work the problem any better?