image: River Irwell R.A.D. Stainforth
Standing precariously at the river's edge, bereft of pirate barque and sail,
I gaze at the blue void where my ship used to be.
Cold Irwell water seeps into the ruined sole of my old bucket boot as,
invulnerable though I be from my roving, I still find myself
with the piercing cutlass of desire to round the bend.
I LOVE PIRATES AND WRITING AND WRITERS AND PILLAGING WITH THE MAG!