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Call Me Ishmael

from Aja by Invisible Hand

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Call me Ishmael please, forging the bitter sod I hate,
Hooked by an ocean lure I maintain this dirt is crude
Soak the garb that I wear; tattered and cut too bland, for sure.
Arouse my love affair; to the sea I will be true.

Coaxing breaks that bend above an unhinged depth,
While life imposes engagements that rue

Mete loathsome, dry idylls between breathes, I curse this land
White noise: “I’m coming!” To the sea, I’m true.

Shallow be thy heart when seas are beyond
Grips of sun burnt stars, nursing pearls of sand.

I’ll call a boat a ship while in a dry pond,
Hoist a sail without a wind on dry land

Toil and the years of land-locked abeyance
Finally pay off in a bright, windy recess.

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from Aja, released October 16, 2012

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Invisible Hand Seattle, Washington

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