A Ballad of Arthur Rimbaud

That time of year comes round again,
The sea runs high and clouds at dawn
Form hollows like the mouths of hell:
Hollow hearted to the drum
Rimbaud drills, a soldier boy,
Upon the deck of an old Dutch boat:
Rimbaud swimming with a sword.

Switch off awhile your learning gear,
Good folks, unplug your internets,
Imagine something without fear;
It's hard enough to know what's what,
Spy on the globe, agog for secrets,
But harder still is overboard:
Rimbaud swimming with a sword.

He's tired of drilling on the deck,
...