Paul’s Rides

The Sisters

The sisters keep bottles of scorpions in the galley

Lubricate walking planks

Untie knots

And forget everything

The sisters wait

They cling to rocks deep in the muck to avoid the sun

They keep lost anchors

And laugh at the trouble they cause

The sisters smell musty like abandon buildings

Rot and splinter revered like some dusty treasure

An animal corps

Neither rare or valuable

The sisters live in reckless folly and empty ceremonies

Feel the putrefied guts

Breathe the foul air

An endless adolescence

The sisters eluded me, “Slippery eels”

Wormy livered with rotten esophagus

They shine their lights on some and they are sure that they can fly

So they do