Tell me true, friends: how often have you thought of Captain Hook as a disabled man?
-Amanda Leduc
in the sea-tilt sway of my bed, i exhale, starbound.
with a fistful of childhood i witness
in technicolor, the performance of
the boy
the ship
the hook
the tick
tock
tick
tock
tic
Neck to shoulder, shoulder to neck—
Head turns down, fist curls inward
Nerve sparks sharp, an iron point.
in some old never place, the sound of children’s laughter:
my memory, the absence
my body, the joke.
a figurehead abandoned in waters becalmed,
i am aged and embittered by the violence of youth.
Neck to shoulder, shoulder to neck—
Socket to ear, to ear
Wrist grinds to a pop.
i hold no animosity toward the crocodile.
(what in this world doesn’t hunger? what in this life doesn’t need?)
and still i cower grief into cruel ambition
sail circles around the thief above,
grit golden teeth against the tick
tock
tick
tock
tic tic tic
tic tic tic
Neck to shoulder, shoulder to neck—
Forearm to bicep, to bicep
Muscle groans under pressure.
traitor is the neck tilted skywards;
holy is the hand which rots within the beast.
there is a boy who hollers down to me
the things of mine he’s stolen.
there is a ship that i have loved
a home where i can only lose.
there is a hook that makes him tremble
makes him trouble, makes him taunt—
makes me wail in thrashing fury against the tic
tic
tic
tic
tic
tic
tic
Neck to shoulder, shoulder to neck—
Ulnar throb, radial pressure
Fingers twist toward one furious arch.
a happy thought disrupts the motions:
tender on gut strings, a hook.
sweeping mauve on sturdy canvas, a hook.
carving life from cedar plank, a hook.
a man soars upwards in all his years,
(a villain and a coward),
and a boy cannot remember the end of his joke.
in his hand
a hook.
in his eye
a hook.
in his heart
a hook.
a hook, a hook.
(Editors’ Note: “The Captain Flies” is read by Erika Ensign on the Uncanny Magazine Podcast, 42A.)
© 2021 Avi Silver
