seals (Remove filter)
England, low tide
All the fuckin’ country
is tense about some dead duck football game
tonight at 8 pm (or so I’m told).
The sea it slinked away but turned again
and stealthily manoeuvres to reclaim
the mudflats populated by the clumsy
clumps of seals. They loiter, lolled
like slack balloons, like lard
collapsing down to chip fat on the hob.
But we, we sit up straight: our sofa, st...
Tuesday 10th August 2021 10:14 am
Recent Comments
Red Brick Keshner on sunbeam records
4 minutes ago
Mike Bartram on Diogo Jota RIP 1996 2025
8 hours ago
Nigel Astell on A Poetry Pint with a Unique Taste of Evening Entertainment
9 hours ago
Nigel Astell on July 2025 Collage Poem: Dancing on the Edge
9 hours ago
john short on ARRIVAL OF CONCRETE
11 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Sugar !!!
12 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Sugar !!!
13 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Meh!
13 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on sunbeam records
13 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Everyday Is Pain
14 hours ago