A ship's cook
The sea is dark, clunky, and calm today
slowly undulate
turns white where the ship's bow has plowed a furrow
that stretches for miles.
Gulls still follow us, shrieking and waiting for the cook to
throw overboard waste food, tomorrow gone back to the coast waiting, for another ship
I fiddle with the radio in the galley, find a good station
it saddens me also as it was it was my brother's favorite song
We left Antwerp 24 hundred hours ago,
it had been
hectic, long night, blaring music, whores and beer
In the drunken haze, a nucleus of sobriety reminded
a longing for something better, knowing this was
a temporary and shallow
as for now, I have a long day ahead of me, food to cook
bread to make and the cleaning of pots and pans
that is why cooks are temperamental
I feel safe in my little domain, a place the captain fear
to enters. Yes, I'm sailing across the sea, and it is good
to be alive on a day like this
Trump By Throat Horn Limerick
Would like to grab Trump by his throat
Throw overboard or in a moot
Where stupid thoughts did drown
And we stopped wearing frown
Then for Hillary had to vote.
Jim Horn
An unkind word,
A Spirit you never see coming
You are to blind too notice, too foolish to ignore
Someone you may know, a woman you may adore
The friend that becomes a deadly sword
The enemy that you will need to throw overboard
The Spirit that will invade and explore, hurt and desire more
Make your heart want to roar till you are groaning on the floor
Asking God for no more, Adultery will start world war.
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