Dead men sour the shores as waves
play at their feet. Bored, the water
will tug the stiffs into frothy sea,
spewing brine into foul air.
Ideas that once were
now lie at the mercy of burdening waves,
are carried down, deep into current,
to feed the mouths of bottom feeders
without pride nor dignity.

They will choke to death on crowns
of yesterday, rotten meat of men
still digging at the bottom of the sea.