Your eyes are open. See!
You have the key. Turn it!
Map? Compass? Canteen? All yours.
Even—how could you forget?—
A fucking frigate. Like it
or not, you come, well-equipped.
Step lively! All aboard! Set sails!
Or not.
As you will, as you won’t.
As you were, as you weren’t:
Willy-nilly, warily weary,
play-toys and puppets put away.
The bounding boundless briny beckons:
Just let me see what’s beyond
one more fine horizon, light
line of wholly darkness, finite wisdom’s
fuzzy line of hapless remarcation.
