#59: The Sea is a strange place after dark

This tectonic sea, plated and crunched with upheaval, full of eyes, looks for the peace of some marine (marinated) understanding.  When the sea is subdued, it turns to wood, to linoleum, to Arborite.  Here is a sea poem where the entire ocean is a woman's divan:

The Sea the Ease

in the lifetime of her divan
brave mariners
ship their oars

in the month
between her breasts
goats and sheep drift
over hills of pitted clover

she has grown weary
she turns over

the earth languishes
full of severance
the sea withdraws
like a nocturnal animal
to the long muscles of earth