Instant poetry…

Day after day, day after day,

We stuck, nor breath nor motion;

As idle as a painted ship

Upon a painted ocean.

, everywhere,

and all the boards did shrink;

, everywhere,

Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot,

O Christ that ever this should be!

Yea, slimy things did crawl

With legs upon the slimy sea.

About, about in reel and rout

The death-fires danced at night;

The , like a witch’s oils,

Burnt green, and blue and white.

…just add water