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  August 2010
volume 8 number 2
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  Renae Andruse
  John-Patrick Ayson
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Summer Griffiths
August 2010
   

 

bio


art by the feral artist

    Summer is an emerging writer currently living in Brooklyn, NY.

   

 

The Pirate Oates

Old Jack Oates was a bad old man, a bad old man he was.
And down by the river, some people say, he took a girl's life with a hacksaw.

Back on the water he was drunker then he oughta, and his black soul fell into the sea.
Nobody wept and nobody cried til happ'nin's of the town got fishy.

See he lived in a town by the name of Evermore that lay 'tween river and ocean,
And a young trusted lad, in a local fisher crew, swore he saw an apparition.

Joe admitted he'd been a-drinkin' as the North wind had been a-bitin', but he knew what he saw was true,
'Cause on that misted man was a very special brand, Oates' red devil tattoo.

And the skies, they were gray, and frost was swirlin' patterns
On the dock down Delta Lane across from the taverns.

"Now don't you run yet boy," said the dreadful demon spawn,
"For there be treasure on this shore that you are standing on."

"See, before my descent, I drew me a map! With marks so very precise!"
"Then I went to wet my tongue with some local scallywags and thought any comely wench would suffice."

"That be my mistake that cost me my life and it also cost that sexy nix."
"She did keep her tongue - but she sure lost her head - all for those dirty whore's tricks."

Oates grinned at that and crowed with a final cackle, "Now me gold be there for claimin'!
And to any man alive who has bravery and pride, let me icy words be inflaming!

O Jack Oates he was a-laughing as Joe, gaspin', past him,
Fast as a marlin, he burst into tavern, still feelin' the chill o' the grim.

He told of that gruesome ghoul
to O'Malley, Joyce and Boole
about the treasure of gold and jewel
atop that rickety bar stool.

So they bade their friends adieu, awash with rum, bravery and frost.
Down river way they were last seen before their souls were lost.

And they never would return from their venture into night,
For from her depraved departure borne a vengeful water sprite.

You see, without the map you are sure to be entrapped by the River Maiden's icy grasp,"
the phantom Pirate Oates laughed as he rasped -

"Remember boys and girls," says this aged devil, "that the treasure be there to this day
But don't make the same mistake as our salty fisher friends and be sure you've already mapped the way!

copyright 2009 Summer Griffiths