Thursday, February 18, 2016

Sunrise with Sea Monsters

by Julie Cameron Gray

Tourists, the seashore is nothing
more than a dirty mile
of horizon and the smell of fish
tacos clinging to our clothes.

Who will be the last alive
to share this view?
The ten carat gold sky,
its mustard gas dream.

Let’s find a handsome cab
and tell the driver to drive
around until the meter
hits sixty and the horses tire,

the sun forever rising
on the British empire,
dragging its gamey leg
around town.

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