My love Santa Marie and Santa Marie, is not here. She lost her way on the rocky shores of Gitchee Gumee. She lost her grand sails and all she had-- when her husband, the grand captain 'J John Z'--- passed. Passed--- into that glorious night, all she had left was the boat, boat named Santa Marie.
Passed--- into that glorious night. He built light houses for her and she decorated them. He built nourishment for her and she ate at it all. She built nothing but she thought she was something. In the end she was just kidding her self that she had a life without Jimmy.---Jimmy John Z.
Jimmy John Z was his name. Not his birth name, mind you. Just his name.
A name that when she heard it, it all but startled her the first time. Captain John Z was his title. And it kept her warm all those years as she pined away a life in her own mind. That is where she lived in her own mind. One day, some day he would tell her the secret, the awful secret that kept them apart. Even though they were together.
She said, "I am here now. Let's not fret about what has passed. Let's not speak of the miles and miles of ocean current that has already past. Just of what is to come, my love. Just the future sailings is all that matters."
The name that started it all--was J John Z.
In the beginning was him and she was with him and he was with them and it was a holy Christmas of love, everywhere in him and through him there was nothing but them.
And all those ocean of years our love sailed away. And all those dolphin tears of life finally and willing came to that glorious end. And now he is gone. John Z is gone and all she has now are the painful memories of the good sailing times.
The brain just gives pain. Strong drink is the only distraction that gives good head. It gives real good head. John Z was my love and Santa Marie was the-- boat we sailed. The boat of love to sail around the world together in 88. The 88 night star trip to circumnavigate our salt sprayed lives.
Sea life and sight seeing were our dream. But now the boat Santa Marie just sits and bops. It sits gently rocking back and forth. No wind and no storm can loosen it's hard and smelly knots-- from it's dreadful moorings. And no one is coming. No one is going to sail her anywhere-- anymore.
Now the dream simply rocks to sleep and another can't even come to awaken. The sun sets on the harbor of dreams and that glorious blanket of night will absolutely come. John oh John Z, captain my captain why did you wait so long before you passed and slept into that horrid good night.
The boat now sleeps. The boat named Santa Marie is now waiting for another captain of love to fill her hull with our dreams. Of too many hopes that two people could only dream of-- the dream of sailing around 'their' worlds 'two-gether.'
Experiencing a whale of a life on the edge of the stormy salty sea of our 'nautical' lives. No one could erase or sink their memories of a life lived and now it has been pirated away from them. And the treasure was not stolen as much but-- forgotten. And there is no secret island to hide it and have at least-- that one last great glimpse of it's splendor, or sample the last taste of it's good pleasant seed---named John Z.
Goodbye my Love-- Captain John Z....and our grand boat Santa Marie.
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Never trust Mr Atrocity! Art you can trust him.
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