A Ghost Ship
If you’d ask what’s on my mind, I’d have a thousand clear, concise answers
I know precisely what I’m thinking, every waking moment
All the neurons firing in my head are dutiful soldiers
Left,
Left,
Every word I speak would tell you that there’s been a mutiny
Deserters over the hills, sand in their boots
The captain is saluting on a sinking bow
The answer to “what’s on your mind” is usually a half-earnest “nothing in particular”
What else could I say?
What else could convey exactly, exactly, what’s on my mind?
Nothing about it would make it all that interesting
It’s rarely excitement
Often, it’s worrisome
A more accurate answer wants to spring feline from my tongue
“Nothing good.”
Still not the truth, but closer
To deny all pleasant thoughts is yet another mutiny
More bloody: now there’s a traitor in our midst
The deserters are underwater
The captain is not saluting, he’s crucified on the mast
Somebody get him down
He’s still alive up there
The general bites his cigar, grimly grunts
“What was that sir?”
“Nothing in particular… but probably nothing good either.”
Copyright © Vincent C. Russo 2022. All Rights Reserved.
Vincent C. Russo 