A funny thing happened on the way to a magpie

I Drown
by Lemuel Crouse

I drown in your absence,
Gasping, flailing, sputtering
Like a boat motor guttering
Out on the last bit of gasoline.

I cling, fling, grasp for oars,
Bringing all down with me,
Like a man overboard
Not wanting to die alone.

Gone is reason, sense,
Any essence of my pride,
Like a tribe of sand crabs
Scattering before the gulls.

As I founder, ever deeper,
That old reaper closes in
Like the tide, sweeping
Ever higher up the beach.

A grand peach of a pit,
Stranded thus in this bind,
Like finally learning one is
Stale, fit only to be cast out.

I am but a bitter-sweet tale
Of woes compounded,
Like Crane's Open Boat, if it
Ran aground on quicksand.

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