Bermuda Triangle

Suddenly a big hole opened up in the sea, the ship sank into it; the vessel rests on the bottom where shiny star fish light up the dark before they are swallowed by sharks .The captain on his bridge, cook in his galley, the first engineer in the engine room, as it was dinner time when she sank ,her crew are in the mess room, dancing ghoulishly around as the sea gently sighs. And sometimes the skeletal face of the deck boy peeks through a porthole asks when the ship arrives in New York, a girlfriend waiting for him; there is a moment of hilarity as dead sailors’ moves about free of man’s burden. The cook rests in a in a large pot tells himself he must wake up, bake bread and do the bloody the dishes as he tries to get his cigarette lighter to work. Her captain bobs up and down trying to find his charts, maps of the oceans currents and wonders why the radar isn’t working. The engineer is trying to find out why the engine stalled. I knew them all, but dastardly left them in Rio de Janeiro just because I met a girl called Maria.