Clasping my hands together,
Fingers mortared in the brotherhood
Of canned sardines,
Palms cupped skyward,
They are sturdy like a rudder,
Helpful as hemp.
As I rung each footstep
And watch the others disembark,
I suction myself to the security
Of this hull;
And zebra mussel tenacious,
Rising always steady with the watermark,
Seaweed hanging in chains,
Like the leering jack in the box.
How fetally safe one must feel
To float fluid in the lungs.
Even the careless suicides
Get to map their deadly anniversaries.