Saturday, 5 December 2015

Eyes for The Same People Only

“The Bathers” by Pablo Picasso (1918)

Life is the source that beaches on youth
Sand castles of which play host to mud crabs and king crabs the claws of those
That endured torture for fun
Is plausible
The premise to swallow with smiles
The excuse that cruelty is the complete innocence of the immature
Is reasonable
Our mothers are so polite
Applaud sentences of the rare wit it takes to speak in front of strangers, especially strange
On the beach the sand is the soul of the sea
So swim you do in the spirits of the land instead of the sea because that bastard it is

A disguise of all sorts
Crabs are the first victims of a child’s identity
Self-taught for boasting rights
The bragger bloats itself on the limbs of the hard-shelled, hard-souled, knuckle punches
Right in the ego
Cruelty is too predictable  
And you are never young enough again
If pollution is on the agenda
Immerse in sand castles for sharks are a fact of fiction, breeding sense into the senseless
Prison is watching until it shivers
When drawn are the fins of the fish

From fishing boats
Marinate something about the atmosphere seafood, when boiled, is your specialty
Salt is for free
Wherever you go
The bowls with the lemon water is not supposed to be drunk
But the drunk
Drinks whatever is free for the quench is worth implications
Of a scrunched up face
Upon consumption
Greed is the driving force behind acts of grief   
The chef couldn’t care less about tastefully seasoned fish