Our brotherhood then understood,
Our hopes were dashed at sea.
Gone were the girls, and no more rears
Would we enjoy--though we're not queers--
We'd be rump and c**t-free.

To kneel no more; no poon to cleave
And no plump cushions pump.
Ahab'll make us take Sleigh rides;
We're all down in the dumps.

And all could hear the madman talk--
'Twas more like a grim growl.
All day and night, he'd stand and stare
Even when wind did howl.

His wish: to see cetacean dead,
So he called upon our seer,
Named Queequeg, and said, "Check entrails;
Deeply into them peer
Or throw your bones. What do you ken?
Is the white devil near?"

Queequeg took the bones from his bag
And chanted a strange song.
As he tossed them onto the deck below,
Their configuration did then bestow
Onto him a face long.

It morphed into a frightened look,
But he made no reply.
"What see'st thou?! asked the peglegged kook.
Queequeg: "Me see, we die!

Everyone go down with the ship;
Much evil has been stirred.
This to be a very bad trip,
Yet no one kill a bird."

Meaning, of course, the albatross--
Not one had shot one dead.
"Me know that can ruin your day,
From a long poem me read.

But wait, we do not all go down
To Davy Jones, with boat.
Me cannot tell you which," he frowned,
"Me crystal ball be broke.
One man among us does not drown;
This man, he stay afloat.

Me see a whirling, sinking ship
It spinning round and round. . ."
"Avast!" broke in Ahab, "be still!
Make ye no further sound!"

Then, "Thar she blows!" the pilot shrieked.
Ahab growled, "Holy sh*t!
Drop the boats and keep peeled thine eyes.
Methinks this could be it!"

We grabbed the oars and blabbed our joy
For a swift glance did show
A bevy of baleen, we smiled
And madly did we row.
Not one was white, we now could see.
Much sperm oil we would stow.

We slew a few; I did count three;
We returned with all hands.
But Ahab jabbers to our boats:
Cut all loose!" he demands.

This monomaniacal man
Was standing at the prow.
"'Tis Moby Dick that I will slay!
Mates, be ye with me now?!!"

From his coat a gold coin he wrenched
And then for all to see,
He nailed it to the mast and railed,
"Who spots Dick, 'tis for thee!"

The captain held us in his power,
We cannot choose to spurn
His quest, though be he a lost soul,
As all of us would learn.

One fights Ahab, a stalwart man,
Starbuck, the mate; beseech-
eth he, "Lads, crazy Ahab be;
I wish you would listen to me
And not his haunted screech."

He'd exhort but could not implore
The peglegged putz to spare
Us from a Nantucket Slay Ride--
The madman didn't care
If he would put us all in hell. . .
We were already there!

From the crow's nest, the lookout men,
Upon the silent sea,
Were certain that the whale itself
Was what their eyes did see.

Screeched Ahab, "Let us get the beast
This time, surely, 'tis he.
If I can stab him with my dirk--
That act shalt comfort me!"

We set about the murd'rous work--
Many of us did pray
That Ahab's madness would not send
Us all to a watery end;
We recalled the word, "slay."

Farewell, farewell, who'll live to tell
The tale of our mad quest?
And soon would Ahab ride to hell
On the back of the beast.

He beckoned, although he be dead
To follow him withal
With waving hand he summoned us,
But for us, that was all.

It wheeled on us, the whale of white
And with a mighty roar
It stove the boat; we all egressed
Onto the ocean floor.

So all were done; all except one
Who floated till next morn.
Rescued. They asked, "What's thy name, man?"
"Ishmael I was born."