Rum Glazed balls in my face, they burn hard.
I look up at the ceiling, the top bunk has left me a present,
it drips down onto my crotch.
This is my wake up call.
I will wake everyone up whilst I make my way to my position.
A hatred and disregard that goes to the top,
The sun hits my globules of sight.
Captain hasn’t woken up yet.
I watch my night shift go, his body heavy and drunk.
The sun catches his hairy backside.
Now I am on my own, a short time.
The storm of winter has passed, and our sailing is slow but peaceful.
My thoughts drift to Fiji, where the women were buxom and the nights were long.
Sun, wind, water, rum and cunts, it’s another day in paradise.
I masturbate over the side of the boat, while my Captain watches.
The Straits of Gibraltar have never felt so far away.