Seas bloated with the
slick of winter have
made flightless the
cold huddle of gail and gull
that wades through wet sands
stalking shells
of the last hungry grains.
Of mist greyed ?
seas clenched
waves that wound
that sharpened rip
and the curved slice
tip of that breaking wood
amid the spires
that salt that rain clings
like these tides maul.
What can gasp shingle-rap
or seaweeded litter crack
can chew crust of plastic
marauding the shore
that crave the rotting wake
or want strewn upon the page
all spill rebuke.
How sapping dunes of the
tail of the wrenching brute
have these shifting stilled
binds of the sea
may drag the anchor
that may ditch the stack
to pile the rancour that litter Art
that stages the connivance
without a part