2014 #221

I won’t tell you what she told me
(though her spiel was pure talk-show)
tugged from the sea that would’ve loved
and will always love to eat her
cottage except brick people foresaw
the sea’s temperament
so long ago; relocated
about half an east coast ton of superb
super sinkers so the ebb acts
like the foamy hem just happens
to be in the way, meaning the sea
wants and will always want
to be the eater and I can’t tell you
what she told me she had


About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
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