MARINA GIPPS Poems
A Day At The Pink Beach
An umbrella being dragged at the day's end.
A seagull churns its wings,
the hard flight of Icarus.
Pink swimsuits blown in the wind,
in search of due course.
Time is needy, a bronzed babe walks by, a regular
statue of Liberty, her flesh turning to
green palor as the water cools.
In this empty beach dream of deepening sky,
the wet Kremlin and White House
are eroded as our childless hopes.
An old woman collects
seashells-caverns of poverty
to be sold to our deaf ears.
The ocean roars of stolen property.
A lantern on a window ledge, lonely,
before expiring itself to the notion of sleep
when supermarkets stay open long after-
for the malingering of confused shopppers.
What a price to pay for the slaughter
of cloven-hoofed animals, the corpus of gods.
In Milwaukee, a woman lies naked for another woman
about to make coffee in her dull percolator.