The SLAM! Green Room

I posted something entirely different for the contest, but I thought ya'll might enjoy this one also. I wrote it a few months ago and never posted it on the site. The crossing of the line ceremony (when you cross the Equator) on Navy ships is an old old tradition going way back to before there even was an American Navy. Nowadays it usually involves someone dressing up like Neptune and bestowing humorous honors or punishments as needed. This is a more subdued version.

Crossing the Line

I sat sweltering
along the gun deck,
the afternoon sun
melting my toes
in the steeltoed boots.
We would be in the Doldrums,
if we relied on sails,
but the deisel engine rumbled,
churning and chewing at equatorial
waters, creating the only waves
we have seen in days.

I started this cruise a Pollywog,
Landlubber with legs
too unbalanced for riding oceans.
But then a lone fin appeared
like a mast on the horizon,
heralding my Crossing
of the Line.
The shark slid
along in our wake,
battleship grey like us.
Another Destroyer found.

"Now I'm a loyal subject
of Neptunus Rex
like you, my dear friend,"
I whisper.
The triton-bearing
Ruler of the Raging Man,
the only King an American
sailor bends his knee to
was notably absent,
but I gave his envoy
a smart salute as he swam away.