Cruising for a Bruising
Decide one morning to take a cruise,
Sail straight through the Strait of Hormuz.
Prez says it’s open, so what could I lose?
Anchor at the midpoint, drink up all my booze,
Settle right down to take a long snooze.
Wake to explosions, bombs bursting in air,
Aimed at my boat with hardly a care
From a ship I see in the rockets’ red glare.
Waving from her mast: our flag was there.
.
My exit blocked, no way I can get out, So I do the hokey-pokey, and turn myself about. But then a second craft appears to bar my other route. Caught between forces who’d trapped me in a box, Like Scylla and Charybdis, not monsters on the rocks, But two opposing ships forcing their respective blocks. Know I was a goner, so I leap into the sea, Swim to the shore, the nearest one to me. Know who’d ever find me would treat me as a spy. Had already consumed all my whisky and rye. So figured today would be the day that I die. I'll never know who sunk my boat. Just had time to pen this note. These are the last lines that I wrote, Shoved them in a bottle, hope that it will float: “Advice to the finder: if invited for a cruise, Find an excuse, diplomatically refuse. Then stay on land when you want to take a snooze.”
