a surprising twist in the poet’s resume

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How I Became a Pirate

Have you ever kissed a girl with ice
in her mouth? A stranger buys a box of maps
loses the lock. Doesn’t get the girl.
The ice melts and she floats away
on a floe. Becoming an Eskimo
is never an option. Left alone,
lips like that naturally turn to green
teeth and soul patches long as skeleton
keys. The key to the girl’s heart
is lost at sea. She measures the circumference
of a shiver of sharks, dives in the center
(did you expect her to land on a fin?).
Resurfacing proves simpler than our heroine
expects. This is a fluff tale, female protagonist,
male counterpart with good hair and a knack
for laughing while swimming, never drowning.
Once the boy coughs up the key
(You must follow the script. He is a magician.)
the treasure chest is opened to reveal.
That’s it. Simply to reveal.

*************************************************

process notes:

this poem–a gift. started with the title, borrowed 1/2 a line from catherine bowman, and out it came!

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