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.


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