How can I reach the sea?
Reminds me
of that corpse I saw
flat back against the sea wall
downriver from the Pier Head
in 1969, high on acid,
with my life’s love
at my side on the ferry
and there it was
the human form,
shaped by moss and scum,
with a crane overhead
swinging containers
through gulls’ laments.
Was it real? Was it drugs?
Who cares. The Liverpool
Echo said it was
a young man
who’d run away to sea.
So there he was, home,
or nearly, between homes
maybe, which is as good
as home.

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