My dad is all at sea by Bel Wallace

Our island has drifted away from the shore. He looks down at the urine bottles beside his bed. What are we going to do about these boats? His long, thin fingers pass me another tiny bolt retrieved from the bedcovers. This is the loudest ship I’ve ever served on. That’s the new hearing aids. Better late than never. What’s this bullshit about a simulator?

The ship’s dog looks on from his sofa.

What’s your rank? It’s the 4am watch. I’ve brought him a cup of tea. Are you a cadet? He’s promoted himself to two sugars. Do we need to take the readings yet? A failing heart needs no charting. Did you know below us there’s a void with no temperature whatsoever?

The sleeping dog opens one eye.

The ferryboat can’t get supplies through. We’ve given up on nutrition. He eats crisps and I eat cake. Can you remind me where this ship is going? He worries about the desalination unit and his catheter. I think it’s time I severed all ties with the Navy. He left sixty years ago. Tell John (Who’s John?) he’s authorized to say bollocks to everything.

The constant dog sighs.

I think we’re sinking.

___

Bel started writing after walking a pilgrim route to Santiago de Compostela. Her poetry has been short-listed for the Bridport Prize, Pushcart nominated and published in journals and anthologies, most recently in Artemis, Under the Radar, Magma and I,S&T. She is trying to finish her first novel, but keeps getting distracted by poetry.