The journey to Davy Jones’ Locker

My mind is lubricated

with the wine of thought-

it seeps pleasure

and craves empty bottles.

 

The tornado of infinite joy

licks the glass

like an overzealous lover.

 

When the glass becomes dry

the pirates’ wife comes out to play.

 

She teases my lips,

numbs my throat

then contaminates my cadaver

with her black, spicy spirit.

 

Her whisper is a

clap of thunder

and captures me

like a grapnel

as I become squiffy

and load the gun walls.

 

Avast!

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1 Comment

Filed under Things that are going on inside my head right now

One response to “The journey to Davy Jones’ Locker

  1. Saw this poem on John North’s twitter feed. It has some spectacular lines in it, ‘My mind is lubricated with the wine of thought’ and no better place for one than at the start.

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