We Didn’t Want

Limned disused spokes fall gradually; like confetti.
Grievances of the bespoken, fiendish,
Tersely state our capacities in shouldn’t haves,
Arbitrarily, rather hurt amidst the hubbub,
Erratically, recounting the too often never,
Charred from the nightmarish,
Optically perceived. They then tap
Stylistically, here, at
Kissing seas.



We plunge into an overwhelming sea;
Lungs filling up in pain filled gasping pleas;
Listlessly sinking in unforeseeable sequences;
Choleric monsoon’s exonerated in these artifices.
Numbing depths of aggrieving soul fragments of
Lambent nights consumed by certainties in
The visually perceived.


A weary wanderer gazes
At the scape that marks,
In permanence, the divisions
Of the land, sky, and sea.

The ship tips in sways
While the bow lobs
In varied feats.

Waters swirl and surge,
While the ship jerks
In unsteady tempoed rocks.

He listens to them slop
And swish against the hull.
Placing his right hand
On metals protesting in oscillation,
Turns and tosses
A floatation device.