The sea, one day

The sea eats glass
Til glass itself

In repose, reflection

Far in the swathe
Of polished rip
Arm upraised
Decrying buoyancy 
I am fastly turning

There are thousands
Gulled in lines
Eating waffle cones
On the esplanade
Loudly squawking 

Laved in oil
(Or made filthy by)

As if the fatted ungulate
In herb and festal truss
Prepared itself for sacrifice 

The sea swallows them up
Returns most

Turns some
Into  nubs of glass
Lost in gristling sands
Small and bright as jellyfish

Dying in the oil and ice-cream air

Now, far out to sea
I start dissolving