By Hilary Sideris

Well, I could lecture you

on quality—or could’ve—


now my tips are obsolete.

I could implore you never


to try, trade in an outlaw’s

pride in being bad for


a knighthood. I’ll say what

Billy Bones said, begging


a child, against the doctor’s

orders, to bring rum: What


does a doctor know about sea-

faring men, who’ve been in


places hot as tar, the terra

firma heaving like the sea,


& mates dropping all round

from yellow jack, or hanged


& drying in the sun? What does

he know of lands like that?



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