 | | | |
| PERSONAL RECORDINGS | | songwriting – recording – producing |
|  |
 | Rupert Brooke: A Channel Passage.jpg)
The damned ship lurched and slithered. Quiet and quick
My cold gorge rose; the long sea rolled; I knew
I must think hard of something, or be sick;
And I could think hard only of one thing -- you!
You, you alone could hold my fancy ever!
And with you memories come, sharp pain, and dole.
Now there's a choice -- heartache or tortured liver!
A sea-sick body, or a you-sick soul!
Do I forget you? Retchings twist and tie me,
Old meat, good meals, brown gobbets up I throw.
Do I remember? Acrid and slimy,
The sobs and slobber of a last year's woe.
And still the sick ship rolls. 'Tis hard, I tell ye,
To choose 'twixt heart and nausea, heart and belly.
|
|
|
