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The Sea The Fish and Fishermen
the whiting on the newspaper, markets crash
cars crash, he dangled three fish on three lines
silver dashes in the sunny day
a gold front is approaching the east coast.
I drive and talk from a tower of vanished guilt
bang you hit the deck smoke rises from the roses
from the earth print your hand on my face
says welcome down a corridor of sea and seagulls
unrolls a huge sky the human colour
pocketed by the better pool player
when you do dance, I wish you a wave of the sea
© Kelvin Corcoran 1985
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