Bent like a banana

On her favourite rock

Skin still slick from the sea

Bulging like some old school cook

In an over-stuffed apron

But soon the surf will return like a cast spell

And the fat old girl is an athlete again

The reeds and the wracks wave her by, and she

Sometimes a shadow

Sometimes silvered with the spherical light

Becames a sharp toothed, brown eyed assassin


I am exposed

A fat seal left on barnacled rocks

Bent like a black banana

By the ebb of tides-

Whose rhythms I should know better

Soft over-blown body

Burnt by the sardonic gaze

Of the cruel sun

I live only in the hope

That the waters that spat me

Will turn again

Will roll me in the weeds and wracks

Will hide me

In the dappled deep