Lifeboat Drills
Michael Albright
Imagine you're on a boat sailing for south rain
You're not in your right mind left brain the empty
side with the broken clock Imagine you're the boat
& I never said you wouldn't sink
This wasn't my idea
you say It's your bad bet to make not a sign from god
I think about this while the cigarette smokes itself
Funny how this foil pill packet slides right between
your teeth like floss Yes you say because it's thin
& sharp like metal I'm surprised there's not more
blood
Casinos on cruise ships are no big deal so many
chances for risk & loss but it's all hands on deck at five
to play the game of survive the wreck all those hands we
can't afford to play wagers we should have never made
This ship won't sail until everyone's counted Do I have
to actually say my name? you ask Yes you have to say
your name This orange thing looks ridiculous I know
I say but it starts to blink when you hit the water
At dusk
we sail into the night each blazing queen busking the wake
of the one before We ride the cargo lanes to Old San Juan
as if an errant chunk of Spain could save us We take coffee
to fish flying thousands to escape from sea into sky You
fidget I stall You demand I tell you something so I say
The veranda is the gateway to the soul but only if that
soul is yours You look at me like I'm a circus clown
& say I have no idea what you are talking about
At dinner
I see you shiver when the captain speaks of the giant magnets
Later I find you on the rail at stern watching salvation churn
in the floodlit wake You can buy all the scotch in custom free
but can't drink until you get home If you sink I say I'm sinking
with you I have taken on the husband's bargainto deliver back
the world you knowor join you in the one you don't
In port
we wait for the airport shuttle You say I hope you're happy
& then look away I know this is the best we can do I know
it will have to be good enough When you taught me how
to play you said Bet as if you put nothing in the cost
is sunkthose chips are gone We flamewe flicker
then blaze again There is no island
I would leave you on
Michael Albright has published poems in various journals, including decomP, Rogue Agent, Stirring, Rust + Moth, Tar River Poetry, Pembroke Magazine, Cider Press Review, Moon City Review, and the chapbook In the Hall of Dead Birds and Viking Tools. He lives on a windy hilltop near Greensburg, PA. with his wife Lori and an ever-changing array of children and other animals.