Captain of the Ship
You have a nice garden,
a good grill and good grilling technique.
You enjoy watching football on your HDTV,
but, somewhere a crocodile is ticking
and water is licking your heels.
Tell your wife
you’re bored. Explain:
as a child you dreamed of becoming a pirate
(A pirate? No one can become a pirate.)
Tell her, she’s missing the point.
You need to buy a convertible
or a motorcycle, to grab life
by its horns (Its horns? Honey.)
She’ll ask you to shave
your beard (It’s too scratchy) Don’t give in;
let your inner pirate bloom.
You may as well tell her
you want more sex,
that she never seems to get into it
like she used to. (Don’t wait
for the response; you won’t like it).
Jump in, tell her maybe the two of you
should get away, go to a dude ranch (A dude ranch?)
Then maybe you should just go by yourself.
Tell her the thing is you just need to feel
like a man (But you are a man).
A man man. A cowboy man. A pirate man.
Tell her you need to be master
Because you knew as a boy,
playing pirate, tying little Jenny to the hull
of the front porch, you knew these were the roles
you were meant to play and you just want
your goddamned treasure now.
About the Author
Lydia McDermott is a poet and critical writer in the Pacific Northwest. Her poetry has most recently appeared in Cathexis Northwest Press, Red Earth Review, Raw Art Review, and Medusa's Laugh Press.