The pirate

“Goodmorning sailors, arrrr!”

I call out loud to show

That I am too a pirate

And not a charlatan.

That they not see this uniform

Was stolen, when at night

I broke into a theatre’s

Fancy wardrobe – ‘twas

Carnival’s Eve, methinks –

And then embarked, escaped.

I also found a soft toy

A little scarlet parrot –

Of those you wear on your hand

and move its beak

and stage a puppet show –

In an old drawer of

My childhood’s bedroom.

With parrot painted black,

And gold spray on his beak,

I filled him up with feathers,

I wore him on my shoulder.

As I had seen the pirates

In paintings and in films.

Aboard this old and

Mouldy ship with

Torn down sails and

Crooked masts and

Drunk and limping sailors.

We say, we are chasing for

The X that marks the treasure.

With guide a

Forfeit mouldy map

Scribbled by

My childish hand.

When I see a foreign ship,

We fire cannonballs,

And then approach and tie.

Their captains, hostages, all night

One-on-one I interrogate.

Looting all their know-how,

Stealing all their uniforms.

Planks from their ships

I add on mine

Replacements for

My broken ones.

I throw my drunkest sailor

For sharks to feast and I

Employ their sharpest, strongest

And cleverest one.

Until the raft became

A true pirate ship.

We scour the seas

Fearless of waves.

We still fear foreign cannons

But we keep shooting back.

And still, we keep on wandering

But what’s the destination?

The X, we say, will mark the end,

And let’s see what we’ll find.

~~~

I started once from zero but

Somehow, I’ve started feeling

That with so many medals and

Treasure chests I’m stealing

My cheap carnival uniform

Has now a ripened feel:

It’s glued and stuck upon my skin

And looks like those of all my kin.

Now, does that mean it’s real?