Busy waiters, back and forth
with orders
queue in silent squabble
on quartz folds, then
dispatch
on frantic wings
over froth and green
and bobbing assembly
of taxi rank idlers,
sharply dressed
and napkinned,
each on call
for a shoal-sweep
of herring and sprats,
and come back
fast on the up-arc,
evading capture
from the sea-kitchen.
A brown bead in the smooth skull
regards
a world intruded -
sea buffed barnacled caverns,
etches of pressure and heat -
and a dinosaur mind
propped on swimmer’s feet
measures us -
awkward customers.
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