Plastic Pearls
Synthetic fossils adjoin the coastline. Fallen into dirty piles they wait to be shucked clean of sand, and mud, and debris. Flowing like tallow beneath
"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
Synthetic fossils adjoin the coastline. Fallen into dirty piles they wait to be shucked clean of sand, and mud, and debris. Flowing like tallow beneath
Drifting beside western coasts of uncovered continents, metallic leviathans stretch their sunken limbs. Hinged jaws spitting sulphurous seeds that linger beneath the ether; clouds condensing
Submerged beneath sediments of ancient ash and bone, the variety of absence suggests the magnitude of loss; high-precision ageing unearthing fountains that loom above the
Anthropogenic biomes cascade Across natural networks, Swarming across this backdrop With assumed transcendence. Broken footprints disrupt Fractured ecologies; Disremembered territories Whose buried cycles Are trampled
Looking down on jaded canopies, Blinded eyes quickly cast their Milky gaze across logging That persists without permission And wildfires that raze without restraint; Ploughing
Beneath dusted peaks of mountain dew A dense and rigid backcloth skulks, Worn down and compacted with Fractured decades of aged powder; Trodden into rocky
Choking on the excessive vapours Of our abandoned debauchery Your stunted shoots flail awkwardly In artificial chambers of soil and sedge. Your weathered hands Fly
Your translucent skin Gasps gently for breath In the Land of the Noonday Sun; A mountainous vista Unexpectedly replaced With Ziploc bags and Moist paper
The Snowpack glistens Against a late November sun. Weighed down by the burden Of frigid memories that Will later flow as torrents Into empty reservoirs
Leaky pipelines cannot excuse The vileness of your touch As it seeps malevolently From its ancient, grainy prison; Your eccentric composition Creating chemical fingerprints That