14 May 2017

‘I rowed through a state
of being shattered.
I rowed through matter
disintegrating,
the sea at high chop
as I followed the coast,
the coast sharp as teeth
I kept my scull wide of
being ripped open by.
The sea chop laughed
to see such sport,
laughed, and shoved me
into the teeth of the shore.
I oared between
chop and teeth,
oared through the grinding
mouth hungering
chew me up.’

Philip Kuepper
(15 March 2017)