Set Right

I should like to sail away on wings of fluff
far from this reality stuff
which cramps me in my gut of guts.
Old lifestyle. New, unchosen life.
Short of breath in a sweat lodge hut.
But my escape is ever so sweet.
Kicking ’round liberating boatyards with dusty feet.
It sets my dreams afloat. Sails, winches, roller furling.
Live aboard schemes.
Sweeping sands, southern winds, sail me into the good light beams.
Requiring little thought for real life means.
I should like to fly away, run off, get away, dodge, evade,
if you get my drift, just flee
from haunts of misery
All or any would set right with me.

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