Sunday, 11 July 2021

and yes that is …

and yes that is …

yes they will kiss you

behind your back when you turn around

they are behind your back

the grey waves spitting out

white teeth no more be snarled

than these skin lapped poles


yes they beguile you

with stories of their sunny shores

they are under where you stood

bottomless sand between your toes

flowing where no legs stand firm

petulant in their caught looks at times


and yes the gone 

the sometimes back sometimes 

and sometimes sometimes sometimes

palmed off rocks the slidden grey

undressed the corpses lost the way the sea

has clothed ripped rags of sky unripped by sea

lost in the ungrowing of wooden groynes

every dry skulled tear runs away this way


yes and that is 

the yearning here 

and yes that is 

the gnawing knowing that out there somewhere 

are the real bones sunken away

far below the seaweeds soft caress

bereft hag stone wanderers of shores and mind

all mankind toppleless and beached 

considering the drowned once dryad winds

not one ambivalent kiss rescinds


and yes that is …





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