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Idle boats
There lie the idle boats
unattended underbellies
exposed in burning sand
paint chips boiling under an unwatered sun
There lie the idle fishermen
sodden drunk on cheap rot gut
curled in a leaf shade
bonito dreams, marlin sails
There lie the dead fish
rotting and stinking
unable to feed in the churned sea
unable to breath in black sludge
There rises the new land
shiny in high profile beams
news shores, new journey to wealth
graph mountains of increment
poem
by
Winston T. Gylles
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