Will we ever make it through the foreshore?
Our erosive time is lost in this hour.
Did we make the most of the coast?
For sure.
The beaches marooned our marbles and more!
To the ashores went all of the power.
Will we ever make it through the foreshore?
Are high-water marks but the days of yore?
The continental shelf has left us dour.
Did we make the most of the coast?
For sure.
Our longshore drift is what we abhor.
Your high & dry hearts have left us sour.
Will we ever make it through the foreshore?
If we make it to the ledge, will it be a bore?
When we reach the lighthouse, will we flower?
Did we make the most of the coast?
For sure.
We’re all washed up from fighting salt chuck’s war.
We’re past the cliff, and under the bower.
Will we ever make it through the foreshore?
Did we make the most of the coast?
For sure.
Charles J. March III is a faux-poet, quasi-writer, pseudo-musician, and counterfeit-artist currently living in California. His pieces have appeared in such places as the Chicago Tribune, L.A. Times, in the toilet, and in the trash. Last year he poured his blood, sweat, and tears into Blood Tree Literature’s hybrid contest, and wound up winning third place. PBS once contacted him regarding his work, but it didn’t work out. Less can be found at LinkedIn & SoundCloud.
Photo by Cristina Gottardi on Unsplash
