Dead Sharks

The frantic Atlantic

The Pancreatic Adriatic

The Brownian motion of the Indian Ocean

The rather wet flannel of the English Channel

The rusted Iron Quay of the Trusted Red Sea

Cajoling Memory

Of Sea shanty carols

The whiff of cliffs

The dead fish scrolls

That turn up and roll

Over and over in a white wash

Of crustacean suicide

Calcium lime tide

Abide with me

Its baptism goes

Submerge let go

Of your worldly throes

Let wild horses stampede you to sleep

In the dark inviting night

A swimming adventure

The temptation of death

Easy as slipping into sleep

Less Temporary

Though is drowning

Cousin to snoring, yawning and frowning

Conscious only of its state in itself

Narcoleptic Narcissus

Of the Narwhale tribe

The seeing of unicorns

Of stars in the reflection

Of waves and tide

The thrashing of sharks

The gnashing of teeth

The permanency of death

And its impossibility in the mind of someone living

Except in the Sea

Where we’re all out of reach

But we have to keep moving or like a shark we shall die

A shark has no choice but to kill to survive

And then what you're left with is a dead shark