Cold crisp sunlight shinning through the car window.
Borrow my camera and photograph this other place
Lets feast on Pringles and bread until we arrive
Figures of brown metal creep out of the estuary
Their tight rusted skin warping in the Merseyside surf
Monsters of the deep, kings among the corral
Speak to me without speech or body language.
What do you think about at night?
What dreams of yours lies beneath these waves?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem