He was on the pier
When he disappeared
Like a snowball against
A chain link fence.
But the boy who couldn't swim
Returned to our shores
Like a bitter wind
Blowing through your door.
'Burn all the gorse
And slaughter the horses.'
Abandon all pretence
As morning approaches.
'Look how he's dressed
In his sunday best'
Distmantle the streets
And reverse engineer
This small coastal town
Until nothing is here.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem