I had this dream where I relished the fray and the screaming filled my head all day

It was as though I had been spit here, settled in

Into the pocket of a lighthouse on some rocky socket

Off the coast of France, dear

One afternoon, four thousand men died in the water here and five hundred more were thrashing madly as parasites might in your blood

Now I was in a lifeboat designed for ten and ten only

Anything that systematic would get you hated

It's not a deal not a test nor a love of something fated

Death

The selection was quick

The crew was picked, in order

And those left in the water were kicked off our pant leg

And we headed for home

Then the dream ends when the phone rings

You're doing alright he said

It's out there most days and nights

But only a fool would complain

Anyway Susan, if you like, our conversation is as faint as a sound in my memory

As those fingernails scratching on my hull