From an Imagined Life

Each time the tide comes in I’ll marry you
again, Sorrowful. Wait till the moon lies down,
Sorrowful. We laugh ourselves to sleep
with a pint of applejack. Tomorrow morning

what if the ocean has withdrawn forever
and the sea serpents come tumbling round the house
for care and cookies? Come close to me.
Turn over then. Treat the poor monsters kindly.