Seismic Songs
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
"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
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