Auckland Poetry.com

The Great Potato Voyage

The ship was so old that she had wooden deck, great to
walk barefoot on when it’s hot; try that on an iron deck
and you get blisters. I was peeling potatoes across
Bay of Biscay, down the coast of Portugal and into
the Mediterranean Sea. The Suez Canal I saw in its early
morning glory while holding on to the peeler, the red sea
and the Persian Gulf I took in sitting down, just had to
take care that the tubers had no eyes, the cook lost his
temper then and shouted all the way across the Indian
Ocean till we docked in Nagasaki, Japan.

Sometimes the ship stopped in the middle of this vastness,
for a rest, and everything went a bit spooky, we whispered
as not to upset unseen forces, like being in a church, no one
swore and our hands were ready to be folded into the act
of preying should a bishop come along. The roaring forties,
only it was a calm day, the captain came told me not to
whistle, laugh aloud or sing, and keep my fingers crossed.
“Will we ever reach the shore”, I said. “You will young man,
but remember this: when you’re old what you will miss
the most is the sea”

Battery Failure.

The owner of a bottle green jaguar had chest pain,
after dinning on Irish stew, bravely drove himself
to hospital, parked, locked his car but forgot to
switch of its light; at the reception hall he collapsed
and the experts in medical emergency went into
action. Later the hospital’s sentinel noticed this, but
could do nothing only watch as the light got dimmer
and finally at five the battery was so weak that
the lights ceased; at the same time as its owner died.
this greatly disturbed the sentinel who thought there
must be a sort of connection even though he lacked
words to express his concern. But he learned a lesson
that morning now he keeps his battery on his own car
topped up and never forget to switch off the lights