took a left at the ocean, and ended up in the sand
careless, it filled my boots
sand everywhere - not as bad as you think
like washing and drying cutlery
i psyched myself up with strange sad theatrical
music
as i sat and watched some lonely people
walk their happy dogs
along the beach
the waves were loud
crashing violently
matching the easter road-tolls
in the same way that every-year
is going to be bad for bushfires
- this damn morning,
what cold fear is this?
i strip off and wrap my music
and rings
and glasses in my tshirt
protection from the harmless sand
and walk slowly towards the ocean
no need to run
no way to run
i walk slowly towards the cold violent ocean
on an isolated morning sun drenched beach
and as my feet slip into the sheet of shallow waves
i only now understand the cold challenge ahead
i walk towards another wave
and another
each one taking it's tense chill
to another level up
my body
knees
hips
stomach
chest
on an isolated beach, no-one can hear you scream
i grunt and groan like a footballer, at best
i yell as i finally face the cold truth
and submerge myself
like sand and washing and drying cutlery
it's not as bad
it's not as cold
as you think
i allow the waves to get bigger
as i wade myself out deeper
they hit me
and i lose control
wave after wave
upside down
and
inside out
i pull up my shorts from time to time
their pockets filling with water and creating a life of their own
filling their pockets and running
as far away as possible
in this cold blue jelly
No comments:
Post a Comment