Being Beached Poem by Slacker D.P.

Rank your blessing
Upon this polluted shore,
The bored waves rinse the
Cleanliness from the sands,
Reversing this tide would
Be considered irrational,
The whales see no point
To it anyway-

No matter how high the tide,
They’ve still died.

No matter how high the tide
They’ve still died.

“The water had dried! ”
Eventually dried,
Cried the single fish
Who had managed to survive.

The shores will no
Longer keep him alive.

The shores will no
Longer keep him alive.

So it is murder by the sun,
From the humble warmth,
Not from the cold dormant
Water,
The sand and sea are lovers-

We are simply beached between.

We are simply beached between.