Deep Deep

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Deep Deep

I'm in 46B on a 727 resting in the ocean,
My feet are the wheels of a supermarket trolley,
With a lesser sense of direction.
I'm drawn to the sound, so I sit on the ground
With my head to the box of bees.
I'm the coyote falling through a pillow of cloud,
Eyes imploring the screen.
I made a show of learning to swim, but...
Deep, deep, deep deep down
The beanstalk is a weed and I'm tired.
I'm a rescued chunk of the fallen Titanic,
Giving up at the sight of the sun;
I'm a bog-man cased in the British Museum
And I'm still not having fun.
I'm a corner shop with a shark on top
In a desert of weeds and thorns.
I'm the kite in the tree looking down at the scene of the crime;
I made a show of learning to swim, but...
Deep, deep, deep deep down
The beanstalk is a weed and I'm tired.
I'm the fire you started in the milk shed
Whilst smoking at the back of school;
I'm the shopping-trolley-wheel-footed kid
Moving closer to the edge of the in-ground pool;
I'm the man in the barrel, heading for the falls of Niagra
But I've changed my mind,
I'm the fish in the Safeway bag in the river -
It's amazing the things you can find
I made a show of learning to swim, but
I've only taken to waving
Deep, deep, deep deep down
The beanstalk is a weed and I'm tired.



© Brendan Bonsack
November 2010