down by Marc's, there's a secret scene. late at night the fishermen come out. disco suits and all. hair greasy, jackets torn, eyes caved in, sets of teeth incomplete. dont know how i ended up there; like some kind of dream. their old junkyard ships steamed in the moonlight frost, steady concentration on what the night will reel in. everyone hanging about; oil spills in the parking lot. it's where you wanna be on any such night. the tide pulls in with the breeze. it vaults you forward. warnings are not warnings, they're challenges and enticements. so go on, load up your gear, there's a sea faring adventure out there.