1. The Shoreline Scene.

  A. Soft sand,
Strangling and drowning the bones
Of fleeing anachronistic footprints,
Laying to rest its multitudinous population
of a) Broken bottles: the real thing,
   b) Cigarette butts: when only the best will do,
   c) Snotty tissues,
And other comforts
Which beautify the scene.

  B. Hard sand,
Separated from above
By a line which juggles damply
Up and down the shoreline,
Resembling in its journey
The Demented wanderings
Of a frightened, insane snail;
The rotting skeleton of the fish,
Alone within this tidal land,
Rules unhindered in his kingdom.

2. The Conversation.

  A. Me: Waxing ham theatrical,

“Alas, poor Yorick,”
Nor does the fish reject
this famous appellation.

  B. Hamlet: Walking arm in arm
With Uncle Claude and mum:
“Alas indeed, Horatio.”
But one feels perhaps
He speaks not of the fish.

3. Counterpoint.

Beside us, the river,
Its life rushing out and covering the waves,
Its oil rolling slowly,
Thickening silently / like black congealing blood.

Alas indeed, Horatio.


                                     April 1975