Fishing at the Port

Fishing at the Port by Rabiah Endymion-Irofin

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Where can I find for that love of mine,
A goat that swims like Ferrell eels,
A bottle that sadly has no wine,
Or a bucket of fresh apple peels?

Where can I shop for specialty hops,
Or steins filled with brews long stale,
Drinks and draughts that make minds pop,
Except for those forbidden ales.

Where can one work on a patch of worn dirt,
To find the well made flask for a potion of love,
Or for Alphonse that sexy half mail shirt,
That makes his belly jiggle with the slightest shove.

Where is the store that sells all the more,
Of idols, bottles, and bows that are short,
The answer for this is not with a whore,
But down at the shore at Eridanus’ Port.