The Popeye Cycle Canto IV: The Later Years

Broken headed, Broken hearted
Damaged toilets
An anchor to remind him of his profession
A pipe and a can of spinach for good times
Forearms like a tree trunk
The subject of cartoons and dirty jokes

In the rooms that smell of old sex and shattered dreams
You await your slender odd-headed girl still fighting your beefy, bearded nemesis
Your heart did not let go
Your heart did not let go

I light a cigarette and call for you
            Popeye
            Popeye
The room spins wildly from too much wine
and I think I hear an echo
then a talented voice in the distance
            Popeye,
I'm Popeye the sailor man

Yes, I believe you are


-Dimitri Oram