Pelagic

Resist the Siren's call I will
tied to the mast secure
No time have I for endless search
of distant seagull's lure
or odd-shaped fish
or mammoth whale

Nay - work I must or die!
For 'tis the spring and
carpet grows with things
spilled through the year,
and windows thick and
blurring light
so birds as blobs appear

I must resist!
I must not go!
but wait! the bonds they loosen!

Oh what the heck?
What's two more days?

To thy manifest please
add one Frederick Pierce,
the weak-willed one -
the carpet's not that bad.

Check's in the mail.