Tuesday, 29 August 2017

A LAND LUBBER TAKES IN THE ATLANTIC

Waves
crash down
onto unyielding rock,
window panes
in free fall
smashing against the cliffside

the air is cloudy
with invisible shards

Inhaling deeply
through the nose
I breathe in the sea

pinkish lungs
fill with slivers of glass

the taste of pocket change
pours into my mouth

I belch
rust-coloured clouds
and bear witness
to a cadmium rainbow
dancing between the droplets

Vision spotty
and fading,
I crumple
and
fall

The ice water hits
like a slab of concrete

In the final moments
as food for the fishes,
I commence an investigation,
up close
and personal

In these many mouths
there is no money
to be found

no denarii stuck
between pointed teeth

and in the many bellies
I now call home
I am alone



PAPER CROWN

The rider of the white horse
wears a paper crown

Stitches and dimensions
ripping,
the hard-ridden, patchwork steed
spilling
guts of cotton fluff

The other horsemen thunder on
made of sterner stuff