Poem: Pirates of the Caribbean is the Love Boat's Last Sailing
Updated: Jun 21
This poem was published in the October 2019 edition of Ghost City Review.
Pirates of the Caribbean is the Love Boat's Last Sailing
By the time our yellow boat brings us to the first drop the air has chilled, mist curled around us. The tips of your fingers touch mine for the first time all day. You slide toward me in the turn and we cross the harbor. We’re in the thick of it now. A pirate ducks the mayor, another stirs his treasure, a woman screams unseen. She’s been promised an evening she’ll never forget. You clutch souvenir bags, and I begin to feel your regard for me. But there’s not much left of the town. Fires eat the timbers, pirates eat the bones, test coins with their teeth. Our little boat sways with effort as we float to the exit.