Singing To The Empty Void

Singing To The Empty Void

There is a time in the morning
when no one is mourning on the beach,
when the sun is up enough to the muggers
to show that the park patrol buggies are about
and kooks on the beach have no money

I stand in front of the ocean, and
shout a poem, or even sing a song
as if I were famous

I imagine the seagull sings my praise, but
really he wants a crumb, and
so do I

—Douglas Gilbert

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