Pass the Blackout

POSTED IN contemporary poetry November 30, 2013

Pass the Blackout

You should know, sweet sailor,
    that every time the boatswain blows
sleepy taps into the misery pipe,
    a corsage of sea salt
blossoms on the wrists of standby wives
    sequestered in cap sleeves
and hot copper headaches.
    You should know the storm flag
is saluted when thunderclap
    erases the strategy in our smiles
and braids our breath into aiguillettes.
    Fieldstrip the stars like
the cherry of a cigarette,
    watch them fall windward as
gravity warps our chest medals into lifeboats,
    our dress whites into
hospital gowns.
    Goodnight nurse, ghost of Joan,
Before your dreams run aground
    know sweet sailor:
There’s a red phone at the
    bottom of every ocean
there’s a seabag full of sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

Brandon Courtney