Cornbugs The Woe Of The Sargasso Sea
the green mist drips
from skeletal ships
becalmed in a seaweed mass
the Sargasso sea
which favors the lee
is a jungle one cannot pass
the face of steel
does not reveal
the tendrils of kelp below
but when night is nigh
it is easy to spy
the silver-blue ocean plants' glow
this cul de sac
won't permit turning back
for there's no wind to fill out the sails
soon eyes cease to blink
and the men cease to think
staring blindly beyond the decks rails
the seagulls fight
for each fleshy bite
of the dead who clutch stomachs quite hollow
and only blanched bones
lay like heaps of white stones
they remain for they're too hard to swallow
as soon as the mold
takes command of the hold
the ship becomes part of a fleet
whose decks are patroled
by gaunt ghosts I am told
ever searching for something to eat
