NaPoWriMo Poem 23 Cut Up

(Cut Up of Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift chapter 1 book 1.)


Those who escaped the rock

The 5th of November, from the beginning,

Were all lost. For my part,

I swam.


On the no bottom,

When I was almost gone,

Summer in those parts,

The weather being my depth,

The storm cable’s length the ship.

The wind so strong.


What became of my companions

To the north-west of Van Diemen’s Land?

By what’s left in the vessel,

I cannot tell.


And in about half an hour,

The condition, of which I did

Not observe them, was extreme.

Many dead by immoderate labour

And ill as well.


I found myself within

One having let down the boat

Into the sea. We rowed much abated,

But the declivity was so small.


Twelve of our crew were directed me,

And were pushed forward

By food; the rest

Were weak of condition.


Six crew, of whom I was,

One evening, advanced

Forward near half shift

To get clear ship and rock.


We inhabitants leagues

Till able to work no longer.

Being tired with that,

And heat of the ship,

Trusted to the mercy observation.


We found ourselves in latitude boat,

Overset by sudden northern flurry.

Already spent with labour,

In a mile could not discover

Sign of houses or waves.


Fortune hazy, the seamen spied rock

Half wind and tide.

I let my legs drop,

And could feel driven upon it

Able to struggle no longer.


By my computation, my conjecture,

It was eight o’clock.

I walked a mile before

I got the shore, immediate, split.


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