The Sea

From my notebook; I'm not convinced it's polished yet, but it was written to fit a watercolour by another student which depicted a man looking longingly into the distance from his gondola. Not wanting to reproduce the artwork without permission, I have instead added a random picture of me and my boyfriend looking into a puddle.

Paused

at a moment where

the ebb and fow of desire

drowns

each throbbing cell.

Staring in the direction of

the Sea.

Dreams of chasing

Mr. M. Dick

while standing on a gondola

clutching a

stick.

No mighty harpoon,

No pull of the moon,

No dishes of salt fishes

and kelp.

Instead,

He is marooned on a

flat-bellied-bucket.

These waters are too smooth,

Their hues too blue-

One day,

tansfixed,

He'll let slide this stick

and float out to

the Sea.

The Sea.