Every storm is an opportunity

for the sea to have its tantrum

as it attempts to tackle

the monsters of industrial society

each wave, 

a gastric convulsion

as partially digested foreign objects are churned out



looking for their new place

in a world where they never belonged.

Those white stones over there

Look closer

They are not marbles

They are pieces of styrofoam carved into pebbles

And the practical joke continues:

take away plastic cups masquerade as jellyfish

red bottle caps steal the show among the seashells

as the monsters struggle to see

through a thick, opaque layer

of their own vommit

George is an author, researcher, podcaster, chemist, molecular biologist and food scientist. You can follow him on Twitter @99blackbaloons , listen to his Spotify podcast George reads George, join his mailing list, or enjoy his books

3 thoughts on “Spasm

  1. Hi George  In about 2003, as I was trying to gently nudge my ever reluctant son toward further education, we found ourselves and dog living in Ventura, CA. The morning after a particularly violent winter storm I had to pick up our Jack Russell Terrier while we were walking on the beach lest he become entangled or worse in the debris belched up by the sickened sea. Everything imaginable and then some but more concerning than anything amongst the list of what should never be in any ocean, discarded hypodermic needles. They’d finally turned our pristine ocean child into a junkie. Damn them. KG

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