Between Scylla and Charybdis

No wind to curse

the unforgiving way

of waves

a fortnight spent

betwixt the toes

of two ravenous w****s

I made a pact:

if by chance

some reckless god washed me

ashore, still legged and

full of breath--

I'd bear the chains

of a lubber's life

wed myself to the plough,

some Vicar's daughter

a harvest of sons

and comely maids

to grace his flinty altar.

Ken e Bujold

Reviews

[W. Barrett Munn]

Very clever and quite accurate in how I feel about being at sea, stuck between two hideous fates I would farm the desert.

Winston