On Offering Advice

A voice cried out and rushed me
to scope the wide flat Earth.
Discovered at a mile or so
A hand above the surf.

I gunned the outboard, skimmed the waves
Across the blank grey sea,
Recalled some rather helpful tricks
To aid with buoyancy.

A face bobbed up and grinned at me
although the eyes were dim.
"How absurd that you should come!
I'm just going for a swim!"

I looked again and saw a wound
Slow-emptying his veins.
Something leaking from his head?
Could it be his brains?

"Take hold of this", I shouted out
and heaved a bright red ring.
It fell right by his outstretched hand.
He gripped the useful thing.

Blearily he gazed at it,
asked, "Does it come in green?
Would not a green flotation aid
Be somehow more marine?"

"And square", he sighed, "would be the best
and I'm not one to gloat.
A square device may fit more snug
aboard your little boat."

He snapped my bright red ring in four
Arranged it as a brick,
Fastened it as best he could
With seaweed and a lolly stick

Then with a cool thumbs up he sank,
But even now he spins 
a weave of dreams in his new home
of tentacles and fins.