A poem inspired by this photographic work.



When the last ships left
imperial shores,
the burden of upholding
ideals of an impossible expedition
congealed in the hearts of
’em sailors.
‘Ahoy! Captain’
rang the chorus
through clattering teeth
and calcified hearts .

Set for a ghost town
on the edge of the world’s
hypothermic frontier,
there was a doorway,
an architectonic body of
and icebergs still as Eternity.

The men passed under it
and a green light
came from the dipping point.
The sky and the endless sea
had become one gigantic lighthouse.
The surface crackled
with its intensity
and sailors all,
inebriated on the brink of discovery,
felt the myth
of the outer world
coming true.

A third eye opened,
like a hungry lion
receiving its feast
in lifetimes,
a blast marked this silence
and the dread of icy apathy
took them into a psychedelic whirl,
through forms never seen
and creatures wholly unlike them.

A missing link
gone askew through time and space,
lost to history’s formulaic appetite.
The last ships lay stationary there
in a land before time.

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