Now it is spent and lying limp
and placid at my feet —
a contentment of inky blue
but the other day if you
could have seen it bucking
with energy , flailing its
wild hair and arching its back
[ sea mountains surfers abseiled
down ] you would not have been
surprised to see it thrust
its loins again and again against
the soft white dunes nor after
to see the body of the foreshore
bruised and torn nor its rump
so foam wracked .
pic by Lachlan-Ross on Pexels
We were speaking about the disproportionate
use of force by the Allies
during World War Two
esp the fire bombing of Dresden
when he brought it up
to the present
when after an eighteen years’ cold case the police
finally caught up with him
& he was sentenced:
just think, he said, shaking his head,
for five seconds of madness
Still they come, she said, the bibles, prayer shawls, letters.
People are very supportive, he said.
But the attic is full of them.
Their grief and incomprehension are still strong. Who can explain such a thing?
And the candy? Those bags of caramels. It wouldn’t hurt ….
What are you doing? He said, reaching out.
Surely it wouldn’t hurt to have a few? After all, they were meant for us.
No, said Peter Lanza, the father of the Sandy Hook killer, knocking them from her hand. They may be poisoned.
Well I never, said the cat.
Whoever thought it’d end like that.
I thought I had it all sewn up.
But now my past has tripped me up.
I should have run but alas too late.
“Fifteen years!” banged the magistrate.