After "Shine" by Sommer Browning
the tin fish bone dislodged a shopping bag
Inscribed sentences crossed half-scrawl bangles
thick with wallowing, what tours you ailed
Muzzled tourniquets weaved to freighters
sea pasted the limelight in the shadow’s hangover
How many might shine his coastal white sand serenade
muffled eyes glint pasted over mouth, someone’s shout
This Captains’ Alleluia a forecast of brightly opaque perennial
presidents a prescience of things to come on shore
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