The gloo, gullet, bottle Of the bubbling sea With its waves and the wind spreading out. The sea - its sparse immensity, Which rounds the headland heading home, And hungry - my body, Which slips into its liquid cool, With a twisting, turning, arc 'n curve, As i go under, Where the white-fibred shadows Of the cerebral dance of sunlight Flit the sandy floor, Where i scrape the barrel of the ocean's bones, The grit and gravel, Then the bursting lungs Falling out on the evening air, In love, With the silent walker's seashore path, The trailing dog, and the city lights.