The captain versus a pinhole in the sky. The captain versus a ship in a bottle and its unlikely creaking. The captain versus his hometown’s silhouette. The captain versus the sword at his side, his lover’s slow eyes. The captain versus a whale: something at least laterally familiar. The captain versus a cloud of breath. The captain versus flatlands and a far interior. The captain versus a cattleprod of pearls, their overwhelmed and singing shells lost with all the bones at the bottom of the ocean. The captain versus somewhere on a rolled-up map. The captain versus another captain with a bigger hat and feathers. The captain versus a seaful of juniper, one hand dragged across the water. The captain versus a gaggle of geese: hungry and disinterested, they waggle around like beggars. The captain versus the cot where he sleeps tight and neat. The captain versus a stick-frame house he plundered. The captain versus the crow’s nest: his legs steady but not a spyglass in sight. The captain versus a wine colored bladder, his loosening teeth and gold caps, nothing to eat. The captain versus scurvy at first, his legacy later. The captain versus his shipmates, arms in all his memories. The captain versus his coursing blood in the water. The captain versus another kind of vessel: his only dear, dear wish washed ashore in a land where no one understands his capable letters.
Tony Mancus currently lives in Astoria, New York, but looks forward to relocating to the DC area. Some of his poems have appeared or are appearing in Handsome, Forklift, Ohio, Ekleksographia, Encyclopedia Destructica, and elsewhere. He is co-founder of Flying Guillotine Press and helps to make small books.