Caribbean Thugs

A gleaming
A scream forever
An encrusted grin
Smiles so thin
Gem on eye
Patch is dried
And encrusted filth
Give generous birth
To maggots and bugs
Spiders on thugs
In their mugs
Caribbean made
Gold Spanish
Taken last May
And on ships
Deadly trips
Swords and stones
Dealings and games
Of maps waylaid
To treasure they say
Heard still laughing
Even today.