Shipwreck. Barbados. Rudder splintered o’er the shoals. Keel cracked n’ bleedin’ water.
Royal Navy’s colors close behind.
Me cutlass be out, carvin’ the scuttling crew.
Nick, ye mutinying bastard. I’ll be in gaol so long as you’ll be in hell.
The screaming turns ye.
“Avast, Thom, you bilge-rat” says ye, drawing steel.
Grape-shots burst the deck around us. This confusion of sky and sea and bone.
Your blade is a butt-end, which ye drop o’erboard.
I jump smoking gaps between planks. Ye swing a belaying pin, which I lop your hand off for.
Next goes your head.