old man carruthers steered the ship
to freedom
we were torn between making cakes
in djibouti and drowning in
a pile of sand
on the horizon jesus came out
of a cloud of bricks
our bandages were covered in lymph
and we couldn't see through the
haze of skin
with one final yelp of captain the
ship was lost in a whirlpool made
of mealy doughnuts
emblazoned on the horizon a solid
gold your face
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