Fish supper

[Jerrybaldy]

On an English beach
In a February freezing
Salty f uck off wind
There are rocks
With whelks and mussels
And stuff clinging on
And I’m looking for meaning
Like it could be found
In muddy waves
And wet dogs
And an afternoon moon.
I raise a rock
Possibly Jurassic
Who gives a f uck
And smash my knee.
Messed up leg
( he did it to himself)
I will hobble
Between bars
With meaning and myth
Feasting discarded
Fish and chips.

[Hawkman]

Seaside seems sadder somehow. Somewhere, someone, slides slowly south, suffocating sibillently, slick and sorrowful. Battered bits of bass before bedtime. Beer-bloated bullies bask in badness, and the bastards blaze blankly beside bars.

Paints a pretty picture, partner.

Live and be well - H

[Jerrybaldy]

Thank you Hawk for your sibilant and alliterative bomb of a comment. Glad to see you back.
Remind why we are on here?