A tale of the crew of The Dirty Maid
By Spencer the Poet

Come all ye amateurs!
Come – gather ‘round.
Hear the tale of Hazy,
And his – battle – with the ground.

If you’ve never heard of Hazy,
I promise that you will,
And remember, henceforth, my drunkard friend
And his – mastery – of swill.

‘Twas a still-water night
Aboard The Dirty Maid.
Midgets were a plenty;
The captain – just got laid.

A celebration was ordered
To commemorate this deed.
Hazy eyed The Maid’s rum cache,
And upon it – began to feed.

Joined in haste by the rest of the crew,
Hazy drank with all.
He added his personal Absinthe stock.
He made the drinks quite tall.

Doc was on deck, cuddling a canon.
Mad Bess – too,
Thunk wielded his thunking stick.
All – were drinking brew.

Captain Seamus demanded a duel,
The first of three to come,
And though Hazy had been drinking,
He was – not – to be outdone.

Defeated, Seamus then sparred with Doc,
In an uninteresting show.
But all the while Hazy drank,
stumbling over stealthy foe.

As torches blazed around the ship,
He consumed his swill with fervor,
Called out, “Captain” for another duel,
Determined to fight despite his liver.

From within, Hazy felt a force
When he stood up from his chair,
Stumbled over to face the Captain
And drew his weapon bare.

Seamus, the sobering captain,
Fond of the official drunk,
Smelled Hazy’s offensive forthcoming,
And – humored – laughed with Thunk.

Hazy fought two battles –
Two opponents at once!
His lunges were blocked by sobriety;
The captain – fought a dunce.

Calling the duel a mockery,
Seamus stepped aside.
But Hazy wasn’t finished yet,
And could not take loss in stride.

From The Maid’s glowing stern,
Hazy stole a light,
Swung its fire with drunken glee
And yelled, “you will die this night!”

Hazy’s drunken mutiny
Was not at all uncommon,
But the amount of grog consumed
Left him with not a leg to stand on.

Here – on The Maid’s drink-slicked deck –
Hazy came face to face with second foe.
He bum-rushed the captain
And began the drunken show.

During his inebriated charge,
Hazy dropped the torch,
But before falling flat on his face,
He took Seamus’ sword by force.

Brandishing both swords –
The captain’s, and his own –
Hazy took revenge
On his worst enemy, newly known.

He violently stabbed the deck,
Which bore an unyielding grin –
Made of planks, warped into smiles
From all of Hazy’s spilt gin.

Again and again he attacked,
But The Maid – did not yield.
Instead – she rocked with rolling waves,
And showed Hazy her strength of shield.

Hazy rolled away –
Relinquishing both swords,
Rocked back and forth on deck
While laughing out these words:

“…”

Well – no-one really understood
a single thing he slurred.
So, having lost to man and drink,
he bent over ship’s bow and hurled.

Here – my voyeur’s tale comes to a close,
witnessed through a crack in the cabin,
a tale related by Spencer – stowaway on The Dirty maid –
who keeps recordin’ all her happenin’s.

Enjoy more of Spencer’s work in the real world;
blog: affairsofink.wordpress.com
website: www.inksblot.com