Aaron El Sabrout

Ferry Boy

watch the water wander by
catch reflections of yourself
in security camera's black eye

parks of dog shit & ice slick
cement, children catch cold
plastic bars, ricochet back & forth

islands of mansions for miles
don't you ever wonder where rich people
come from, how they got there

who/how their ancestors
disappeared
and yours? as for his the ferry boy

he can't rememember them
it's all just water to him

jade fading into blue fading
into grey sky.

No service,
the dead zone
a series of metal containers between us and the water
water i scrubbed
it from my pores water
pouring from the upper deck water

crusted all inside of me
sealed off wax caps like
whale blubber ferry boy
land lubber he rubbin

on rocks he love em
lichen leaves or fingers fusing
crawling over skin in

to crevice & widening, probing
creating an entrance where
before there was none land

tubbin boy he drum his insides
from the stone

               another boat passes alongside,
two ships traveling
against the grey

exchanging sodium light across
the rippling stillness mountained
distance lists

                       your hand warm
through my jeans i just want to lay
on your window charles bradley sax
scream spread open arms and bellies
he's--i'm--we're drifting together, ferry

boy pink eared peeking under cap
you're braiding your hair over the headrest
eyebrow pencil island girl behind squints
and laughs he's huddled against the bench
armrest and rests paws outstretched on
       asphalt boat deck
                            the ferry rumbles
       its own rhythm, pounding

deep under the water the whales
whistling along to our bass. hibernating
till the arrival announcement wakes us.
departure bay. where the woods leave,
list downstrait and float across the jetstream.
freighters like paper airplanes

dot the sky water, only white decks rising
from black hulls divide the horizon.
anchors scraping the reef displace starfish.

ferry boy takeout curry his
car full of boxes steam dripping down
the boat ramps grease handprints
the windshield the highway water

running at the speed of flickering light. coriander chili and turmeric warm car atmosphere.
the seagulls swoop beside to catch a whiff. ferry boy steam rice and drift.

Aaron El Sabrout is a transgender alien living on unceded Stz'uminus territory (“B.C, Canada”). He is originally from Cairo, Egypt. His work has been published in Mud Season Review, Split Lip Magazine, and We Want It All: A Radical Anthology of Trans Poetics. As you read this, he is most likely dreaming of fungi or out planting seeds for liberation.