I'm surfing the bottom of the barrel blues again.
I'm turning thirty-eight;
my dreams flounder flop in the blue surf like dolphins mocking me in fun.
I don't feel like laughing now.

Once in a dark while,
waves rush me with gale force winds
with ferocity of a hundred foot wave
I hang ten on a lightning bolt,
inhale all the life-force I can and ride it out.

I've seen pitch-black darkness
that drives a man to the edge
forty fathoms deep into a bottomless sea.
An octopus the size of Godzilla pats me on the black than squirts ink in my face.

This was after my first attempt to surf failed.
I don't feel enough to dwell on past indignation
So I tried again.

Neptune raised one hell of a fuss
The wave rose tall as a mountain.
I measured distance before the swell rose
The surge overwhelmed
I managed stay inside the pipeline.

Underneath my board
The water’s like skating on liquid concrete
Winds get damn cold
Night time is like the devil’s playground
Sea demons nip at my ankles.

For a moment I feel a soft warm breeze
            See faint starlight in the distance
I don't feel so lonely anymore
            Whether an angel or a once true love
The sun's orange horizon lay before me
            I hold on until I see land again.
           
I imagine I'll meet my doom someday
The sea salt keeps my soul cool.
Only seven thousand more miles
and I can dream again.