The manifest states “five-day trip,”
so many passengers, already sick.
Gonna get strong antiseptics,
to stop germs from infesting the ship.
Whether starboard, astern, bow, or to port,
a vomitorium vessel, this floating resort.
Gangways and decks, covered in spew.
Life preservers, life boats, even bridge crew.
Bobbing and swaying,
the waves are a throwing.
While green-faced vacationers,
feel the gastric juice flowing.
White knuckles grasp railings,
some vertigo feelings.
There are even some chunks,
on my cabin’s ceiling.
When will this tilt-a-whirl end?
I’m just asking for a friend.
A very special thanks to Evangeline Vickery for suggesting: antiseptic
40/40: Summer Poem Slam-a-bam is a ongoing project in which people have joined me for 40 days and 40 nights of on-demand poetry. They have submitted the concepts, ideas, and subjects; I’ve done the rest.