Rock-Strewn Sea [revised] Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Broken through today's great boredom curve
fighting to ride the tide of new surroundings,
from a round high-edged table on which to
type to swimming in a rock-strewn sea where
standing is precarious - to tasteless chicken-
schnitzel smothered in atrocious sauce

To watching a watercolour-sunset morph into
a tasteful grey although visual imagery won't
alleviate boredom; Douglas Adams' satire on
time travel offering a brief escape ending on
a wooden bench where my beloved extolled
the virtues of a mid-year jaunt to this beach

My impatience converges with long-suffering;
all conversation losing interest indicates it's
unrelated to the real world, now the feeling of
alienation in a new place is abating - but oh,
to reach a point of no bad meals, no cleaning
all-pervasive sand from swimwear and -

Now I know why people stay out of the sea:
riding high-tide waves is nearly terminal while
wading at low-tide is boring in the extreme…