by grimbeau

Calamares tapas.

Waist deep naked and absurdly squatting:

‘Calamares! Cease this punishment!’

Onlooking palm shanty bivouacs sing:

‘You corrupter of paradise! Repent

this vile ouzo hubris and perish cold

and alone on this too early morning:

Watch your little life pass by, your transient soul

Is floating about you, a dark sponge gloating

at your flaccid white chipfat corpuscles.’

Soon the morning beautiful will bring

their bronzed, ideal, muscular nonsense,

scoff tapas and laugh stage-loud at the thing

stood shivering in freezing blue Ionian bliss:

hungry harpies, waiting for you to steal a piss!