Seaweed

Seaweed

Seaweed. A human enemy,
a trouble shooting thing,
that doesn’t seem to disappear.

When dry to the bone,
all crisp and painful,
causing sores to the feet.

But when wet,
all clingy and slippy,
causing bumps to the head.

Seaweed. A human enemy,
a trouble shooting thing,
that doesn’t seem to disappear.

I'm not sure if this was intended in a rather satirical way or if you actually have some deep-seated grudge against kelp and I'm meant to take it seriously.

In any case, what does 'a trouble shooting thing' even mean?

Otherwise a good piece of work- I like the idea that poetry doesn't have to feature a suicide or a death or a divorce or anything for the writer to get worked up about it.

Oh no I have no grudge against seaweed. I was on the beach when I wrote this, and it was killing my feet, and then my sister slipped on some so I decided to write about it.

also trouble shooting thing, means it's annoying and causes pain, suffering and trouble sometimes, but trouble shooting is a more relaxed version