Man and his shoes
There is a man
At the water's edge
He glares savagely
Eyes raging
At the horizon
Unable to steady himself, his mind
Angry at his life
At his world
He spits virulent nonsense at the waves...
But they provide no relief
He hopes each cry will disperse
Each drop of venomous saliva will
wash away with the tide
He is infected with bitterness, but
a hundred moons and a thousand oceans couldn't save his retched soul
There are many watching, wondering, but he stands
alone
Only the gulls surround him
Waiting to feed from his bones
He's redolent of despair
And they smell his desperate heart
As he rocks his upper body
Back and forth, back and forth
The waves greet him mockingly
And swallow his shoes
Written whilst sitting on the beach in Brighton, England. There was a man, shouting into the sea....