A Scoured Sailing

October 6, 2026

I only almost fell once. I might be getting the hang of it.

In celebration of my sleeping sanctuary back in place, I thought I'd write a poem to whatever music was playing at the time. Kiltro it is.

———

A Scoured Sailing

Roll headwind over nailing crumbs. Drown spigot's grief to float. Scratch two sticks stern in chastised dump. Wreak havoc with aplomb.

Ring suds to soap last Tuesday. Muse wreckage into Morse. All abound the dangling We, Death sleets to scale off coarse.