Peninsulars

It is bare – a scuddy littoral
raked clean by rip tides/ In
low dunes I sleep [I’ll return
from faded holiday revisits –
just let me rest]/ Lost family
time was drugged by work –
hours of setting lines & light
to make other people glow/
Reserves’ll erode – by need
& a woman’s flaws – hunger
is best left underfed [a man
once told me] – & keep ’em
ropes tight whatever you do
he said as he dabbed pools
of blood off floorboards – &
she will never spill her own –
if her lies have fixed her eye
& made her price too high/ I
have a scientific calculator –
it’s no use if truth is illogical/
I will recount – but only when
coastal erosion has seen my
dignity safely returned to my
washed-at [worn] peninsular