Botleshop,Battleshop.Bottleship,Battleship.

Oh, Bottleship, with foaming bows,
your weapons fire so fast,
heavy metal, sea-green hues,
and yellow shades contrast.
The stainless cannons
belch their loads,
and roar and seem to blast,
the acrid smell of burning brew
reels me into my past.
Your heat and steam
and bursting bombs
might leave the weak aghast,
but I must endure
the long night shift
below your savage mast.
I see the changing tides and muse
how long this ship might last?

1994
Contemplating retirement
fromthe Brewery.