catshipgrin

she has a stupid grin.
a grin the cat would like to
call its own.

 

for ships have no place in
the      middle       of the
desert; or dessert
but in the waters hands
a ship may be at peace.

 

with a cat on its deck
the ship may squeal and
fall into a little squall.
and the ocean may speak
(to the mast) of clouds it
use to know, and rain-storms
it once loved.

 

but by the fireside her stupid
grin sits there; smoking,
playing devil to my c**k

 

rising out from misty isle
and heading into desert stretch.

Reviews

[Legion]

Honestly, not sure I follow this at all. Some of the lines are wonderfully done, but I can't quite connect to this. Some explaination may be needed.