There’s something sad 

Something harrowing 

Something sallow 

And something soft 

 

Of making a bed of bodies 

And lying in the heat 

 

The putrid sweat 

That soaks the core

Of a spirited corpse  

Causes it to float 

 

No rescue 

No reprieve

                                                       Only risk;

 

melon baller to lobe 

 

Some cum - stained mattress

Drifts through the grey;

Distended, cloying, aloof —

Stinking silt clinging to banded fingers, 

Reaching up through the bogging muck 

To gasp at the last morsel

 

of                    fettered             flesh!

 

Blithely unaware 

that it melts off the bone 

 

ROT! 

In the rudder! 

 

I am so,

So tired  

Of swimming to shore