Were Captain,
we’d run aground
endlessly

Hulled up on immaculate
turf of strangers’ lands,
exploring

Our concrete passages
under starboard skies
searching, for

Chicken bones, and
pillaged and plundered
cheese-anchored paper

From pizza boxes,
surfed by raccoon pirates
atop trashy vessels

Docked at the curb,
by stern masters, now
slumbering

Unlike my dog.
If only!