Teach a man to fish.
Then tell a fishing story. One that considers the sea a feminine place.
Unpredictably beautiful and ever calling to you. Endlessly landless.
Moby dick, nothing to do with the apathy of Bartleby. Nothing.
The Old Man and the Sea. The Gospels. Matthew, Mark, Luke…
and John- the morality emerges from the middle. Sandwich meat.
Your destiny, your dreams and aspirations, the planned path–
all but already paved. Even the best catch isn’t nearly enough
to feed all the empty stomaches of deckhands and hungry sharks.
At the end of the day, sea sickness cannot compare to sleep.