Portugese Lady
Part of the masses, another blue-bottle blip
ocean-sweeping ~ sailing blue-massive
oscillo-roaming-wind
spinning a dizzy-spherical war ~
The appetite to be sated where a new current
ushers constant unpredictability on its menu:
gleaming silver thrashes on its thready hang
Each usual sting, brings on a singular cringe
so predictable are its shivers of alas-morass
entrenched within a genetic-evolutionary psyche…
Luffing, she swells on the blue-flowing-feel
another turn, she is riding with the armada
Dining, diving, leaving divining to the wind,
yet wielding its surprising, wispy, sublimity ~
(11/30/20 For 'it is what it is or is it' contest)
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