Maybe this is what he meant
that dead man so admired.
When he warned what it'd cost
perhaps this was the Everything--
widthwise and bilateral
bemoaning the task
of keeping your powder dry
while trying to drown a fish.
The harbor pilot fornicates
on the grenade factory floor
but no one bats an eye
feeding fevers and starving colds--
the human equivalent
to the aftertaste of mayonnaise.
