shipyards

itis dark outside
and i am too drunk and i cannot
stop thinking about my dad
everytime i pass the shipyard i think about
 the countless hours in which he told me
the provenance and
ownership of all of the boats back several decades and i cannot
remember any of them and it
makes me feel guilty but most of all it makes me think of him and
it is as though i can hear the restless motion of the sea water against the
hulls,
i could hear it, earlier tonight, at the beach the tide was hungry for
the rocks,
and part of me wished that i could throw myself into the timeless pulse,
excoriate these feelings and begin anew
abraded and free.