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by John Davis 

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(“Boarding the MV from Monrovia” mobile version)

The chief mates tries to bribe me with bourbon
in coffee and a wide grin. There’s a gap in that grin
a missing tooth. Maybe that’s where he’ll find

the load-line certificate. He rummages through
papers, bottles, shackles—a bear poking his snout
in anthills, flicking bees from his paws,

about to rub-up against a tree, scratch
his itches, roar that he’s found the certificate.
The cabin smells of oil. A Playboy calendar

hangs on the bulkhead open to June. It’s July
but Miss June smiles her bosomy smile. Tension
off-loads like a ferryboat. The bear bumbles,

grunts like a glacier calving, stomps, smashes
a basket before his thick paw produces
the certificate creased like starlight. His ragged breath

pants. Where is the COFR? I ask. He slaps down
the Dangerous Cargo Manifest, growls and grunts,
yanks a cabinet to test his strength. How soon

will fur rise from his hackles, his fangs
glint in weak light and the gnaw and gnashing
begin? Legend has it a woman becomes

a bear when her husband turns to sadness.
Has she become this man? If this were a painting,
anger would be tapping rhythm in a bear’s eye,

his mind wrapped tight as ivy. I would be the echo
in the hollow corner with a heart of gray snow.
The bear would sharpen his talons on my bones.

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*COFR: “Certificate of Financial Responsibility”

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John Davis is the author of Gigs and The Reservist. His work has appeared recently in DMQ Review, Iron Horse Literary Review and Terrain.org. He lives on an island in the Salish Sea and is a veteran of the Coast Guard.

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