Passage to Tarshish

How it all stays together
All the stuff we built
Stovepipe and anchor
Medicine and quilt
Is but a clackety serenade
The question itself
A renegade response
To a larger shelf
How much is too much
Light to sconce
The figment; all of the above
The sack past its limits of stretch to shove
The reply: from the beginning
Gives peace and simple meaning
Not so much disenfranchised
As invited to find path
Chastised as shadow
In murky, shallow bath
Perhaps watery grave
Even as good things misbehave
Or it is what it is not
Nothing at all
Bits for betting
White bolts on prison door
Panther billows
As light exalts on foreign shore
Feather pillows
A heavy pour;
Timbers logged
As far as any can tell
Spirit dogged
And just as well
Great Straits!
Breathing relief
Comrade, captain
Noble chief
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2.4.10