The one that got away

When Ma said, ‘Go to sea’, I felt its call
but didn’t factor in a ten-year trip.
My ears are... slightly large, I’m not too tall;
as ‘runt’, I was the mop-up boy on ship,
served damned Odysseus and all his men.
I slopped out shit from rotten lotus fruits
and tied them into sheep, and even then
they squealed and couldn’t find a quiet route.
Instead, they had to land and gloat and feast
while Circe watched them overdo the wine.
They ran around like drunken party beasts,
so no surprise she turned us into swine.
But, when they crawled out, penitent, I hid.
Oh, Gods have mercy, let me stay a pig.