Life On A B-I7

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Saturday October 16 (Poetry Challenge Day 12)

Poetry is in my blood.
I remember when I was in High School.
I got a job as a painter in a shipyard.
We were converting a WWII era Landing Ship Transport into a cannery.

The foreman sent me below deck
to paint a shower room.
He forgot to send me down with an exhaust fan.
Marine paint is bad stuff.

By noon, my buddy and I
were writing poetry on the walls with our paint brushes.
It was a contest of sorts.
We took turns composing lines.

When the foreman came down to get us,
he was surprised…

…we got the afternoon off.

Note: The point about poetry being in my blood could be a slight exaggeration… but at least it was that day for a period of several hours, accompanied by a splitting headache after coming back up on deck…