If these three men were me,
we each to each would bow,
politely (achooing snarks);
implicate one’s a cuttlefish,
one’s a cunning shark,
then infer who’s left’s a lover;
and understand the differences
but not the reasons why
each have ruled each other.
We throw ballast at Poseidon
from a plowing trimaran.
Kings: at one time or another.

Gavin W Sisk
July 26, 2013