The galley of my mind is wont to veer
From charted waters. Should I wish to steer
it back? There is, perhaps that source of fear
(Or just uncertainty…?) whose smirking leer
Can turn the blue skies grey—but one can hear
Poseidon’s groans in stormy seas. Cold beer
Will drown my captain’s scruples, because here
Adventure calls! So set out with good cheer!
To keystone of a life lies in the mind,
And pleasure, in the straying from the grind
Of beaten paths. To live, to dream, to find
One’s own stray journey. Take no heed of signs!
—So in the creasing of the sails, my prow
Will charge unfeeling through the sea’s grey brow.