Thalassa

What does the fist need
To make it happy?
What does the arm want
To stop its crying?

You hear them calling
At night, in your boat,
The agonized parts
Of the body, lost

At sea, in the waves,
Same as you, same as
Your boat, all the boats
Scattered and bobbing,

Full of persons, beasts,
Energy sources,
And disconsolate
Dreams, bits, body parts.

Are they all lifeboats?
When did the ship sink?
What is this? Even
The sea is at sea.