. .. postcard from the esplanade .. .

.. .

One hundred times we arrive
  at seaside towns incognito
gulls sing mournful to the wind
  sleight the tongue then spew
their guano at the borderline               
  sad potato in their craw
expanded like one wet summer
  it began slowly soon ended

Backstreet billboards rage
  of politicians, old comedians
back at the Adelphi once more
  three nights longside Johnny
Geetar’s archive, misfit band
  not yet seen gold or sand
locked up in two-bit lodgings
  worn equipment trailers

Sandy shale beaches; walk
  coast-lined to the bleachers
watch breakers crash wooden
  groynes;  disjointed crabs
avoid final summation; this 
  misty morn: queue the waves
they rush to divide and conquer
  relentless, seaside armada

It happens here or not at all
  place of earthmover summits
sea monster ; people sonnets
  wonder full or wander lust
shoreline lover’s trysts betide
  world leaders: their buckets
and shovels take global stage
  address the spoils of plunder

Straight off the morning train
  I face sea-salt exhilaration
it engages me; all the tiny tots
  plastic windmills; 50 pence slots
a day that could not be better
  a hundred times we’ve been
I expect we will return again
  to pull our stuff together

©edenbraytoday18.04.2025