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I'm a nomadic ctenophile sailing to Lampedusa;
I'm showing the boatmen the virtues of saving ants from bathtubs,
and when the seascape dims, I see my past.
I'm an amateur florist who doesn't know what a professional one must be like,
I compare the pitches of the street meows,
I lay my shoes on the pile of summer slippers and leave the toecap dirty for boring reasons,
I feed my donkey one apple a day and look into his eyes to detect pleasure or lack thereof,
I check the asymmetrical dividing lines in cement balusters and think, "Fuck the architect!", because I'm not that smart.
I tell the boatmen in the morning, "If we die, it's because of these bad gunwales."
You see, I'm a seaman.