a hurricane brews within my head.
thoughts, like waves thrashing against rock,
of the living and the dead.

a thousand indecisions
drowned quietly in the waves,
just then a thunderbolt of urgency
unexpectedly invades.

S.O.S i am the admiral of
this ghost ship that’s sinking
the water here is frigid
and i don’t trust my thinking.

a hurricane brews inside my head
my Ghost Ship is tossed and tumbled
i withdraw my rusted anchor
from the lonely seabed

i remember Elliot’s Wasteland
so perfect.. so barren.. so dry..
i set my mast and sail away
to where the sea meets the sky