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Leola Norman Jul 2012
They come uninvited to our shores
frightening the lovers of the sun and  sand.
The water is now a blue, wet poison.
There is no bottle with a skeleton label
only the shadow of fish as huge as ocean liners
trying to stow away passengers in a dark hole.
Like African slaves we go unwillingly to the unknown land.
There is no time to prepare for this death, this injury.
Screams are heard and not heard like distant echoes on a
mountain in Switzerland. "Stop! Stop! Stop!"
Yells ***** down to the distance like heavy iron anchors.

This creature does not speak English,
Italian, Swahili or.....
It only knows the taste of blood. It wears hatred around his
neck with the faces of victims close to his teeth. It is savage this
thing, this monster, this bully.
Where did it learn to hate
then eat what it hates?
Did a God really create this wet Frankenstein?
I think it created itself.
It grew heavy with the impurities of never loving, giving, serving or
blessing other~.
My God! it does not prey before eating it's favorite morsel~
man.

— The End —