Neptune’s Recline

Cast off the salt — rim my margarita
With the zest of my tired stories
Odysseus — who? — though I screwed him
Well — 10 years? — try an eternity at sea
And I don’t even like calamari, rubber
Bands of brothers — seamen, always
Wanting and yelling at me for direction
Look at the stars, damn it — Ah, a night’s rest
The quiet of a bubble bath — Diana
Krall — yes, peel me a freakin’ grape —
Try doing that with water wrinkled fingers —
Place it’s sweetness upon my tongue —
Turn out the lights — spark a wet candle —
If you can — I can’t — split the river
Into a fountain of babble — softly
Stroke my calloused neck — scaly
Tipped back against a luffa — that’s
The spot — rinse me of my sins — towel
Me dry of the sea stains — set me
In a leather back — place — a Cohiba — upon
My lips — and christen my recline with a bottle
A 10 year old Añejo — alone — in the darkness.

∞

Submitted as part of “National/Global Poetry Writing Month” (#NaPoWriMo #GloPoWriMo).

Today’s prompt: Day Five: “Today, write a poem about a mythical person or creature doing something unusual – or at least something that seems unusual in relation to that person/creature.”