Bahamas or Bust

My Temperamental Girlfriend

I am languishing, anchored in a channel in Nassau, often stuck on my boat;
because my temperamental dinghy motor won't start -
I call her my bi-polar girlfriend.
There are reports of gang murders in Nassau.
I notice that the young men do not meet my gaze.
Just like me when I pass an unpredictable dog.
Most shops have a security guard.
They fascinate me with their fate of standing idle hour after hour.
The mind isn't meant to be still - the lions pace, the fish pace, my thoughts pace;
some say the mind ceases to exist when it is still.
I ask them how they do it, they smile as they search for words.
One compares himself to a pawn in a game of chess - quite dispensable.
When they do acknowledge me with their eyes there is only one acceptable silent response
Oh Mother, how beautiful are your children.

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