Ocean floor
when my daughter was three
she asked me
what was at the bottom of the sea
was it mermaids rocks and seaweed?
staring up at me
i didn’t tell her the story written in the morning paper
i said
wheni was her age- yes
there used to be mermaids there
gripping rocks
wishing for legs
spying on seamen on boats singing shanties
to show them the way to the safety of shores
these mermaids would splash with the turning of oars
dreaming of human kisses turning fish-tales to feet
playing games till night-time calls from below
when they’d go
swin away through the reefs
soi thought
i thought the ocean floor was a place for mermaids and sand
and Caribbean singing crabs called Sebastian
his candlesticks glowing
in ancient sea cities
through subterranean pillars
remains of palaces and titanic like leftovers on dinner plates
and parties with sea kings and octopus violinists
cynics argue- there’s no space anymore- up here
now in makeshift boats
across the seas
a thousand bodies row in false beliefs
back and forth through ocean seas
from torture death or war they flee
balanced between a boarded sea and maybe
reaching safety
we say
go back- there is no space on our land
as they row on with hopeful hands
we wait
our seashores now barricaded by wires
lighthouses replaced by blue siren fires
mermaids dashed off rocks
where border
control guards now sit and watched
and wait
shininh floodlights of teeth into villainous waves
they wait
drowned in the soft glows of gloating
guns rested between fingers
ears pricked for shivers
they wait for those boats
floating where black night skies above the ocean burns with cold
and frozen winds pierce fleeing souls
and never ending waves wake screaming babies
and frightened people huddle
dreams of little more than reaching safety
we say
go back- there is no space on our land
dunkirk now far from our minds
where newspaper stories
bragged of boats saving scared fleeing flesh
the worn paddles blessed
by man’s compassion
our headlines now read
go back
as hands row for weeks forward and back
we say go back
as fingertips shiver and crack
we say go back
as faces think back to the homes they had
we say go back
as whispering voices break with tears
eyes full of streaming freeze with fears
and just when
their boats are getting near
we say
go back- there is no space for you here
here
in a land where sheep graze gracefully on never- ending rolling hills
and vodka spills from disco dancing hands
where grandmas do lunch over sandwiches
three tiered trays toppled by victoria sponges and rock cakes
and scones and jam and clotted cream
with silver spoons stirring our sugary teas
we say
go back
i watched titanic five times on the big screen
tearsstreming down my cheeks as i heard the oarsman shriek
is anybody out there?… Leer más
