S.O.S. One ordinary day After rough and tumble torrents Of uncontrollable Tsunami pourings A glass bottle floated on by Above submarines kiting on high In the sea of voices shouting Old oxygen’s soft carapaces To be corked with pressure By instinct and stifled Only then written an S O S Waiting out all who passContinue reading “S.O.S.”
Submarines Turbines turn and guide the way. We suggest you glide away. Have you wondered how it feels, Throwing switches in the seals? A bubble stream trails machines. We stand up and survey the scene On the bridge above the reef Suspended on disbelief.