Savage Tantrum

A Poem

AI art generated by the author

Why I keep setting out to sea
in a small canoe to race the tankers
is anybody’s guess. You have to believe

there is another land mass ready
to receive an emaciated champion,
blistered hands, missing teeth,

one more Sunday shy of scurvy.
It takes every ounce of strength
to drink water without a dry heave,

to hold a bite inside until it breaks
down into more tears, more sweat,
more pituitary answers

for why a pin-feathered baby bird
jumps from a nesting rock
before it knows how to fly.

©️ Trapper Markelz 2023

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