A day absent from school spent alone by the sea under the rare sun causing serotonin levels to brim, exactly what I needed.. and that tramadol.
I tiptoe to the shore
Curious, round as a baby, wrapped in ivory
I wade, wondering how long before I’m beckoned back in
It doesn't come, remembering
There is no one to call my name.
It has been this way so long, I no longer recognise it.
Everywhere I go I see puffins, laughing clown eyes.
As the first lady steps to the edge, torch bearing seraph
there comes a squadron of magpies chattering
as the sweet crust is thrown.
Glittering,full to the skull with soaring smiles
I make room for a slight obstruction.
Come little capsule, blissful chaos,
a million miniscule men run ,then march starch and white
Kissing my blood,astounded
I will remain and tend to the sea
she is my mother
the reflected hollow face of the moon
Remaining until my spine turns to stone
my limbs then will follow, humiliated
Who has laid themselves bare upon this slab before me?
Who has warmed this stone
Plucking the grass,
curling around their toes
curious little hands,
I am not here to recite fairy tales.
Were the shades of the sea in such extremity then?
Blending incoherent with the sky
but for some shredded shrapnel
sapphire muscles bloodied urchins the algae screaming with joy!
Did the heron stand still , stately?
Stalking the waters’ lips reciting affirmations.
Where the fresh faced and haunted child
sensing creative bouts dresses as Matisse’s’ ballerina
though bloated and spasmic.
Where someone laughing in their sleep cried Baudelaire! Baudelaire!