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On The High Seas

a poem by Mare Leonard

How do I tell you, Life, I am tired of your stealing my dreams, hopes, desires as if they are loot you can haul away and present to some other. Who the hell is paying you anyway? You can’t fool me. I know the patch over your eye, The doo rag, the parrot that recites Submit, submit…all lame tricks Your ship may sail in open seas, above the law, but what if I sneak aboard. I can do that. Your men would freak out. It’s bad luck to have a woman on board. I’d wear some push up lacy bra, garters, black stockings, some high heels for your high seas. No doubt about my intentions. You would all cower by the tall mast and I would seduce my dreams and desires, showing you a thing or two, my Life, you.

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