Sentenced to surface, to bob--
To float but not to feel
And to misplace my sacred fishes
On poles I cannot reel
Sweetened fruit a fiendish fruit,
An imp with timely feet
Scratches fingers, with such joy,
Relishing defeat
Ripples elevate-- and retract
And deserts never grace
Nor shall they cleanse the crevices
Of my a-paling face
To float but not to feel
And to misplace my sacred fishes
On poles I cannot reel
Sweetened fruit a fiendish fruit,
An imp with timely feet
Scratches fingers, with such joy,
Relishing defeat
Ripples elevate-- and retract
And deserts never grace
Nor shall they cleanse the crevices
Of my a-paling face
Thesilentraven
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