I have never seen the Ocean so black Nor so many people pacing nervously along the shore Looking out worried We are all in mourning for Flight 800 Our Island will never be the same     -every bit of flotsam that floats ashore is suspect-
Breaking Camp gone like some desert prince no shadow left behind each footprint obliterated as if it never was
BOLD SCAVANGER! GARBAGE PICKER! THIEF! Come back with my lunch you evil fowl!
I come here to wash out my brain and see how things really are
Predators They run the water's edge at dinnertime staking out some fat old oyster alone who do they think they are? dark skinned foreign tongued bold as brass and hungrier than starving only the very poor or the very rich can afford to loll around on the beach all day although lately it seems there are more of them than there are of us