She lives here
the wilderness
ate her up
the seaweed
above the
blank rocks
sand gashed
from the waves, and
the waves ate her up
red strains on slums
cottages
white on
splendid docks
blue boats
settle like corpses
livestock rattle
uneaten meat
horses, filaments,
pebbles- are pieces of
this blank rock in
place, seashells
are quiet-
songs of the sea
are quiet-
the back of the
rocky undergrowth
reaches up
drips filaments of terrible:
there is nothing, weeds in sinks

who can speak when
bike’s rust, sheltered in
the blank sun,
blank heaps on blank
rocks
white pebbles, sea foam
corrugating from a
stray dogs bark
children with dry paint
circling their own-
ocean, pale
island, thick
smile from rotten sticks
ash in cages
carousel of colour between
galvanised steel
gasoline pools
nicotine stages-
grafted rooftops;
decor of silk nights,
no sir, I’m alright-
She lives here
as it eats her up
neck deep in seaweed
socks in drained roots,
don’t save her, 

try to.