And on those joyous sails
A mirrored image of a bald head,
Shattering my dream
Of faraway, mysterious lands,
Gold-red sunsets,
Silver-white nights,
Of seas shattering against
A sun-splashed deck.
The whisper of the sea in my ears
And the whistle of the wind in the sails
Are replaced by the wheezy murmur
Of an anti-Freudian.