Cursive

Tall Tales, Telltales

Cursive


now and again youll remember the sound 
of the sails waving helpless 
the cables wrapping one another into knots so strong 
youre lost at once if not tossed into the drink and lost beneath

a substance so dark yet elementary 
four winds converge upon a point where your compass 
spirals round in useless motions mocking everything 
while bilge collects 
your cupped hands attempt to shovel out the last few inches 
and you plead with the gods but they send you no sign 
hold on sailor, hold on brother 
steady the vessel 
tall tales of ghosts at sail 
they spend the afterlife 
in futile calculation, dead reckoning 
telltales confuse the sails, direction is lost 
the winds will spiral round a listless tapestry 
and youre left all alone under the shine of the moon 
hold on sailor, tighten the cables 
steady the vessel 
its a good life if you dont weaken 
hold on, hold on