"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
Reducing fishing gear more effectively prevents humpback whale entanglements in California’s Dungeness crab industry compared to costly, data-intensive dynamic management strategies, ensuring marine safety and uninterrupted fishing.
Underwater nuclear bomb detectors have picked up an increasing flurry of song from pygmy blue whales in the Indian Ocean, indicating numbers of the elusive species have rebounded after it was hunted to near-extinction.
Jutting from the salted froth your solitary canine flashes in the midnight sun, revealing wrinkled rivulets that labour under our insignia; ivory forget-me-nots of all
In the name of progress we pour your honeyed ichor down the jagged throats of our unquenchable machines, launching broken vessels to coax you from
An accidental echo on the line oscillates with the baritone of your misplaced song. Waves beneath waves traverse wires crossed with the rising beat of
Basking in the tainted gloss of west coast rays, these once frigid waters overflow with sustenance, enticing anchovies to cavort along the coastlines; their corporeal
You slide fluently through cool, coastal waters, A balletic grace with unparalleled force That silently slips between the spheres As a distant rumble announces time.
At the bottom of the ocean, In a mariner’s trench so deep That Hillary could have climbed it, We pray that we will find silence.
With drips and bursts and streams from their blowholes Beluga whales blow bubbles in the sea; The air encases liquid as it roles Languidly from