This poem is taken from PN Review 139, Volume 27 Number 5, May - June 2001.
Sixpence a DayThe sea bulges or licks.
Cool as a lemonade.
A gull rides with its two
red feet, dib dab, beneath,
doing appropriate kicks.
So easily can the
low sun rearrange some
pegs, making another
countenance with its legs.
It switches hips, turns on
a toe. Marram shoves its
stems through silica and
an unidentified
spider starts to chew his
gloves. Now here he is, cream
spots on cinnamon. His
...
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