Sparking Beedies
through the strait of Hormuz
considering the children I keep employed
tying tiny green strings, next to elders
snug around dry, burly leaves
Piracy warnings
lights off on the decks
to pretend to confuse
thwart grappling hooks
avoiding a dramatic turn
Maneuvering fast around
sheep, minarets and sand dunes
lanyards grant passage
indicated by satellite
I’ll hide in the solarium
or perhaps the engine room,
next to acetylene tanks and Greek captains
with nautical miles unequaled to date
Radio tubes dicate
“1 point to port”
to provide mathematicians a hobby
the statisticians a muse
Auctioneers work quicker than cartographers
and even faster than a bullet trains
who at least have the decency to stop
at stations from time to time
to allow the slow minds
needed moments to breathe