Carpenter’s Union Called Him Captain Hook comes from The Greenwood Poet, a book that came out last week as part of my ongoing romance with doubling my years on odd years and then writing that many poems.

I spent a couple of years, off and on, writing about the gothic fantastic and the environment and death, before and after COVID (thought that obviously wasn’t the original intent). I’m going to serialize them on the site for subscribers. If you subscribe for three months, you’ll get this for free. And besides, subscribing is free for the first seven days, so why not try out the Showbear archive?

Of course — 20% will be free for everyone and I encourage you to pick up a copy of the hardback.

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Carpenter’s Union Called Him Captain Hook

Gunpowder fog
His Evinrude emits.
Sun dots its “i”
Shoreline crosses green “t”
Orange and baby blue gilding 
My father
In a busted down Ranger fishing boat
Having pulled me behind him
— Until the waters whipped me
Black and blue
At sixty miles an hour on the golden arc
Barrel roll body
Apparently water can wrack testicles prior to whiplash.
This I did not know. 

It’s calm now
In my father’s wake
We have few years left
But we respect drawn lines
A rooster tail shoots up between us
A late good speed
He docks along
And fades back towards
Circular fire
And the smoke of his enemy’s 
Cannon fire.
His death will beg the bards to weep. 

At least this one.

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Photo by Adam Bouse on Unsplash