I had this dream where I relished the fray And the screaming filled my head all day It was as though I'd been spit here Settled in, into the pocket Of a lighthouse on some rocky socket Off the coast of France, dear One afternoon, four thousand men died in the water here And five hundred more were thrashing madly As parasites might, in your blood Now I was in a lifeboat designed for ten, ten only Anything that systematic would get you hated It's not a deal nor a test nor a love of something fated The selection was quick, the crew was picked in order And those left in the water Got kicked off our pant leg And we headed for home Then the dream ends when the phone rings "You doing all right?" He said, "It's out there most days and nights But only a fool would complain" Anyway, Susan, if you like Our conversation is as faint a sound in my memory As those fingernails scratching on my hull