goodbye to the last piece of shore, Martin Luther

goodbye
to the last piece of shore;
there was a knocking on the door!
an angry monk saw a black sky;
he tried to paint it blue
with a single drop of wet German glue;
he wore a mine owner's shoe
that left no temporary prints;
instead he left 95 shocking hints.
soon a lady sipping her cheap wine
read his hand-written note
and quickly boarded her Mediterranean-bound boat
i watched her wave from the upper-most deck
while smoking a fat cigar
i sat idle in my idling car
we were heading in different directions
and didn't seem to mind:
life is sometimes too unkind.
there was a song inside my head
i heard her humming that same tune in bed
one night as i massaged her back
she said her name was Jill when i said Jack;
she has a prominent mole
and i have a long nose
which usually follows her wherever she goes
but when she went to Istanbul
i went to Wittenberg
to write down everything i heard
about death and rebirth and reformation
from the citizenry
who mostly drank warm beer while eating stale bread
i gave them the final words the woman said
before she closed the submarine's hatch
for the final dive to the bottom of the sea
without me:
bubbles rose from my toes
when i saw her eyes shine
as she caught the last glimpse of mine
rise and shine.