They bury the dead at sea
stitched in their hammock

cradling a cannonball
the final thread
through their nose

It’s the best stories
told often that stick

the one about the old lady
in the corner store
begging for crackers

Cracker?
You look like a cracker!

and the hairlipped boy
who came over the ridge
yelling, the war is oder, it’s oder!

About the shiftless
And indolent
And lazy
And feckless

Going down and down and down
deep in the chamber of contempt.