11-24-2016, 02:31 AM
A hard tide rubs raw
the knuckled bones of a beach
Fish heads poke through
mackerel eyes.
Where white hands haul a wrecking mist
I wash my mouth in sea-green,
a leaky man crocked and fuddled,
in a reeky mizzle.
Beyond the stone clumping town,
a swinging ark of a tavern
slops its grog over clinking mugs.
Crows ballyhoo in its rafters
gulls scarf a sloshing brine.
Nest me there on a mast of sky,
coddle me loose and snoring
on these off-shore banners.
For I have left the sea,
a rusty buoy now knells in me,
and it wallops in my dreams.
the knuckled bones of a beach
Fish heads poke through
mackerel eyes.
Where white hands haul a wrecking mist
I wash my mouth in sea-green,
a leaky man crocked and fuddled,
in a reeky mizzle.
Beyond the stone clumping town,
a swinging ark of a tavern
slops its grog over clinking mugs.
Crows ballyhoo in its rafters
gulls scarf a sloshing brine.
Nest me there on a mast of sky,
coddle me loose and snoring
on these off-shore banners.
For I have left the sea,
a rusty buoy now knells in me,
and it wallops in my dreams.