Steer board to the starboard side, twelve amazons sculling and all oars in the water, their ship swept over licorice dark seas. Laziness already murdered, grave rumblings rising from the deep couldn’t hold them back, nor could work, nor studies, nor life itself, for they had grand epics singing upon their thoughts.

Writing at longday’s end in a half fainting trance, I salute my fellow mariners.

This entry is part of my journal, published January 1, 2016, in Berlin.