Bitter, Bitter Sweet Week (English)

bitter, bitter sweet week
as I go forward
new endeavours promulgate about my bow
of this and that
and still the old luggers come sailing by

Bill set sail this week
from the safe harbor of the hospice
St. Peter's
he said he would take up a new habit with the nuns
his words not mine

now he glides along the blue waters of Annwn
journeying to the Pearly Gates, Valhalla or perhaps the abyss
it was time to say farewell
and now his corpse lies in silent repose

and now, if possible, now he knows

and as I bid adieu to my mentor
my colleague
my friend
what reprieve do I find

none

I pray he has a fine stateroom
on his old paddle boat
chug-chug-chugging along the Styx
with good old Morpheus at the helm

in my world it's a sorry mix of Pirate Jenny and the Pirates of Penzance

the same old class of sorry scows comes to dock
offering some frigging in the rigging
at cheap fare
a few orgasms and a couple free meals

and that, even that
in the guise of love

still not bad
helps pass away the doldrums

and tonight came calling at the quay
a sweet old schooner from a long ago yesterday
I thought surely lost among pescatarian seas
poor old thing had a hole the bottom
but I used my skill to plug it up

and tomorrow
I pull in at Siam
to sample the wares of yet another hopeful first mate
although I reckon by now it is I who is the more hopeful

my bow is barnacled
and my sails are ragged
my balast is soaking
and my rudder is worn

still why not sail on
one more sunset
like the lost Catalan
while I may not find India

I may just find something else to dream on...