Hastings Beach 1974

db-record-stormIgnoring the arguments and the cigarette fug,

I rub the condensation from the window.

It won’t be long before white noise stops

its sibilant assault on roof and windscreen.


Rolling down the window, just a crack,

to breathe in fresh salt air with a sad veneer

of vinegar sharpness on wet chips and boiled whelks.

The weather thwarted seaside treat plays out


as it always has.


I drown the sibling tantrum out; slot machines

are not that important. I’m content enough

to sip Heinz Tomato Soup from the plastic

top of a well worn Thermos flask and lose myself


in the relentless beauty

of raging, murderous waves.


(c) O/Bleak 2015 (WV)


One thought on “Hastings Beach 1974

  1. As someone who has been having regular seaside holidays since the Seventies I found this poem a real memory awakened and fill of great imagery and simple pleasures. Very nicely written

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