perhaps
you were a child i once knew

a scanty striped sailor

capped with
wings of a bird
in lieu of arms

perhaps
you are a bagatelle

and i Elise
here to make aphoristic music

or

perhaps
you are a sailor god
a
barnacle bill

with
white roses for drift anchor

and an essence
to carry
until i turn 89

til' i lay down my head to die to die

when i lay down my head and die.