Man cursing the sea
(after Miroslav Holub)
This bloke went to the cliff-edge
spread his arms wide
and cursed the sea
idiot water
ditzy clone of the sky
whoring yourself out
to the sun then the moon,
fingering your own
fishy necklace of shells
set to erode
whatever hunk
you throw yourself at!
This went on for some time
while the tide melted the cliff
so it could lick at his feet
like the dog he panted like
then he took a deep breath
That’s my girl, he said
Stranded
At check-in, a little Indian girl
in a velour jumpsuit – let’s call her Pinky
plays Etch-A-Sketch for hours
I recognise the ancient tablet
its knobs out to complicate
needlessly drawing by hand
making impossible a true circle
such as Michelangelo that dead white male
could doodle off-the-cuff
and I imagine myself a child again
seated at the growing tip
of each line I took for a walk
something like Kimball O’Hara
sat astride Zam Zammah
on her brick platform