Gulls follow me above the concrete meadows I traverse
Hungering for what I shall dredge from the acidic
Industrial muck of a refinery shore, knowing more than I
That things immersed await but a tremulous touch to be made
Beautiful, invaded, tainted with beauty

Like those miniscule leviathans in all their grotesque forms swarming
In ocean trenches cavernous as an open mind
Motes of that strange beauty hovering in a dark existence
Illuminating asphyxiating visions of hell
That when netted ascend and swell by degrees until finally
They burst
In steaming sunlit puddles, too late for that honeyed brilliance to ever
Complement their own

Such I fear as I run my hands through an oily semblance of sand
Crouched under the chill which spans a spectrum
Of hypocrisy, cruelty, burgeoning demand
To unearth a piece of space congealed from waning nebulae
Glistening, promising future songs straining towards a greater beauty to come
To wash away this polluted pedestrian flotsam from which it was drawn

The gulls, with their eyes of molding mushroom spores
Wait quietly to wrench it from my hands
And tear it sinew from sinew into just another steaming morass on one more deteriorated shore