one way glass

I’m a deckhand
on a 61 year old freighter
pulling into Montevideo Harbor
loaded to the gunwales
with tractor parts
and bananas.
I am beat up from a storm
100 miles off Recife
my feet are unsteady on the deck
there’s been hell to pay
in the engine room,
…the wiring is smoked
in the master panel
and the stench of burnt eucalyptus
is in the air…
I see the City lights so,
I’m close enough to swim in now
I won’t – it’s safer on deck
Kiss the clock
it’s Thursday and the
old man’s brought us home
on time.

Pray if you must,
drink if you can
shake your fist at every
drunken sailor who has
ever pissed you off
in every port from
Shreveport to Banjul
try to recall her name
when it’s quiet
and peer through the glass
like always
and pretend that
no one else
can see in.

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