No union for the lighthouse
keeper, for he can’t
unite. so he dies from
an ulcer of butterflies
transformed to flying
demons, partnered
with the acid sea

And the acid sea
keeps roaring
like the Atlantic
itself, with the
lost sailors
enveloped in
its disloyalty

In its disloyalty
the man at the top
soothes his
guilt with the
phobia of
bankruptcy

And this phobia
of bankruptcy
turns to a mouth
that keeps eating
and eating
the men
at the tin can’s
depths

The tin can’s
depths lose
their arms
and their legs
until their minds
are lost by
a desperate
choice

And the desperate
choice between
a life and a drink sing
bittersweet lullabies
to the unfortunate
mouse in the alley

In the alley sit
sick men and rodents
of three legged sheep
who lost their eyes
in a fight

And in a fight
the union president
runs his long nails
up the young apprentice’s
spine while he
cackles

While he cackles
his acid sea doesn’t
rise, nor does his
mind flee in a daze

And in a daze the new
keeper spends all
his life savings on
treating his soon-to-be
ulcer.