Here are the busy streets of fish
dead tower blocks squatted by gulls.
When they dropped me off at the woods edge
I was stammered by green,
I was torn to rags by the silence.
I walked like a bent pin,
stubbing my toes on the emptiness
Remember that library book about the ocean?
You should see the night sky:
it's buoys and lighthouses
it's flares and shipping lanes
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