UNTITLED #2
Waded feet skirt the wind,
Hot winds blow, unhindered.
The sun shines;
Unaccustomed boats flee towards the shore.;
The heat driving them home.
The sea is a big boiling broth;
The scant sky is naked
The gulls perspire in fight,
Many fall to the water hoping to cool;
fools, many burn their flesh.
Idiosyncrasy of lunatics,
Absence of sense in the grand council of gulls,
Those fly circles for food.
Scathed, loathsome, scavenging mongrels– these gulls.
Fish, shrimp, crab and gulls,
All shall perish one day.
