A beholder’s eye call
for sure, out there. We
aren't above each other,
see. It is I, Joe! You are
you, though. So each we
please and deem and bail,
abob, adrift upon the green
subjective seas that heave us
twain, to each own port, by each
own sane or wild and daft, or cool.
Or keen.
By canny to uncanny means!
Tied-for-1st!-mates, captains, we!
By solo boat we storm our sea.
Armadas and regattas form, wherever
one and one agree, plus ever many more
may do.
That’s how we boat, and find at sea.
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