Plug your nose, the sewage reeks
Keep your gaze lifted, it speaks--
A yellow moon with slurred speech
Begging the tide to up its reach.
It gulps down another chug
Of its wax-sealed twilight ale
And begs once more: Tide, please,
Come wash away the waste that seeps.
The moon is tired, you see,
Of all the bottles and bags.
It drinks form the stars and the sky
Watching as the ocean meets its demise.