An odd poem I started working on a few years ago that I’m not sure I’ll finish. The WordPress program won’t let me format it correctly, but this works fine. Enjoy!



In a bleary state, the boatswain spoke,

the gall was brash, so his timbre bore,

an uncanny temperance, “it crushed my

heart, and bashed my head; soon the

birds will appear, soon I will lay dead,

and no one will know, or


postulate in

my stead, what happened this morning,

while they lay in their bed, and the salt

sprays pain, and the sun’s giving light

is killing me, and the most important

memory that I had, is

dripping from the


crown of this skull, so I remain castigate,

among a wailing ocean’s breeze, aboard

a sea of treachery, ‘biblical hermaphrodite,’

aghast and un-atoned, waiting alone in

time, for the moment unbridgeable, pain,

elegant death, purposeful relief.


I have some chapbooks for sale on Amazon for .99. Check ’em out. Every little but helps a starving artist.


~ by Shawn M. Young on November 14, 2016.

2 Responses to “Boatswain”

  1. Great poem! Looking forward to reading your chapbook 🙂

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