grey; shoreline littered
with the ghosts of stars.
Brine festers, rotten fish
grows in the nose
like a new barnacle
life here
has fallen
from great height
all shape has been
snapped out, all colour
leeched from limb
scuttled shells blown apart
legs forcibly spread where
the gulls have had their way
the bonnet of a crab
has been popped open
revealing a grey sea engine
shivering in the wind
we crunch on
this violent path
out past the horizon
what catastrophe what
hammering storm
occurred out there last night
to rake the abyssal grey
and pull down the sky?
