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 Related posts: Recycled poetry