Pier In A Gale Poem by Sheena Blackhall

The pier is having a panic attack
The sea is rearing up like a juggernaut

A hooded cameraman, eyes scrunched behind wet lenses
Films a string of flags near torn from their sockets

A woman anchors her husband with a hug
The sky's stripped clean of gulls

Storm watchers totter about like skittles
The storm's like a warship cracking whelks
It has put paid to candyfloss, postcard venders,

The sun's a blearie cataract
The wind screams like a banshee
Clouds are snagged on lampposts

Whip-lash sand tattoos the faces
Of yobbos taking selfies