30 July 2022

By Philip Kuepper

As promised,
I row R.O.W. to you,
rowed by a crew I will let you 
give name to by clues,
a boat the current takes hold,
causing it weave wildly about,
with little clue to which direction
it is headed; a boat
that shape-shifts on a whim
into a swan, while the gods
look down on the hocus-pocus of their doing;
a boat the old bearded salt
takes up the oars of,
and, by the soundings of the buoy bells,
wide of the shoals that rip open hulls,
the boat all yours, now,
to think with to solution.

(14 July 2022)

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