Guillemots gant as the sea flees
the estuary leaving an infinite shore
of mud and mussels stinking in the off-tide sun.
Gulls and pomerines skewer two penn’orth
of chips dropped in the grease queasy aftermath
of waltzer and helter-skelter swirling.
Henderson’s – and papers imported for one
week only – streaking the prize with tasty
black veins and a reminder of home.
Sunday best and damp gaberdines steaming,
apricated in the intermittent holiday drizzle; pockets
hide a stash of ha’pennies and farthings saved
for shrieking clockwork clowns and drunken
sailors – wide eyed and hysterical – prisoners
of the East Coast Riviera. Every year the same…
a chara’ to the last resort and the pink ‘un
by the sea. A moment away from the works inferno
as the kids run riot on a brisk and turbid beach.