I wrote this after reading Longfellow's "Wreck of  the Hesperus." It helps to have a dictionary handy.

The Wreck of the Inarticulate

For Cal

I

t was the Inarticulate

That sailed the ocean blue —

A schooner, brig, or barquentine,

Nobody really knew.

Skippèr and crew were fearless men

Whose only major failing

Was total ignorance about

The lexicon of sailing.

Jibs and stu’n’s’ls, martingales,

Gammon, tack and luff,

Braces, ratlines, shrouds and stays —   

They knew it all as “stuff.”

Scuttle, course, and mizzenmast,

To them, were all the same.

They cheesed a Flemish coil down,

But never knew its name.

And so, one bleak December morn,

As the gales began to blow,

And every blessèd man on deck

Was blinded by the snow,

The skipper called upon them all           

To save the found’ring rig:

“Bring the pointy part around,

And hoist the thingamajig!”

Every man looked back at him

With vacant, blinking eyes,

Uncertain what to make of his

Obscure, despèrate cries.

The skipper shook his fist and thundered,

“Come on! Do your job!

Turn the what’s-is over there!

Raise the thingamabob!”

Every man looked back at him

Immobile as before,

As swells and billows tossed the ship

And drove her toward the shore.

The skipper gave it one more shot,

His last ’twas ever heard:

“Helmsman, grab those things and spin the —

Darn it! What’s the word?”

Just then a wave loomed overhead

And with a deaf’ning roar,

It swept the skipper and his crew

From what they called the “floor.”

At last, the roll of breakers

And the fifing of a gull

Played bourrées on the rocks that stove

What real tars call the “hull.”

For weeks thereafter, passengers

Aboard the island ferry

Saw, floating mid the ship’s debris,

A sailing dictionary.

So sank the Inarticulate

With all her crew and cargo.

Lord save us from chagrin like that

Upon the Reef of Argot!

Joe Barron

January 9-11, 2018