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.