'tis a plague of flying words, I am plagued by flying words

Wednesday 29 September

Pick me said the clown with his big shoes on pick me and I’ll be a good captain.
I’ll trade in my shoes for a cap and a whistle and a dictionary of useful phrases.
I’ll guide us to ports that lie flat on the continent after steering through storms with my eye on the stars.
My fondness for whisky and climbing up ladders, my orientation and ability to chart courses, some attribute in vain to my extraordinarily bendy knees and while my inner ears are extremely flexible, I tell you straight, it’s the affinity I feel with the horizon that enables my marine aspirations and I trust will support my application for the helm of your good ship on its way round the leeward isles, stopping briefly for relaxation at the secondary harbours and once for refueling in Malacca.