Page 104
Plastics
She is a curator of sunsets
a self -appointed guardian of the beach
so she picks the immortal pellets
like polluted pearls
poseurs among the sea shells,
pecked up by
wobbling seagulls.
These birds have
a gut feeling
their heads swivel
in a chaos
of bulging eyes
heavy with
the detritus of
careless lives.
Even the lust
of the flies
have been fooled
as they perch
on plastic
and search desperately
for a kiss of
blood.