Set sail, we did, one foolish gray morn’
‘Cross the turbulent, salty glass
Loaded we be with spiced rum and corn
The crew, I, and Peter the ass
A rickety ship of jagged plank
Echoed the shanties of desperate mates
Squawking fool Peter tripped over a crank
And fell upon Ed, an anchor n’ weights
We spied a long, lone merchant ship
Easily swindled, promising riches
The order to fire passed over me lip
Peter’s canon blast ripped off me britches
Justice be Peter walking the plank
His shot hit our boat, and we bloody well sank
-Michael Handtmann, Guest Writer