Perimeter Blues

squint-wishing a mist to rise from the ether
of beach resorts deadened

sand returning its infinite collar
bark lying still for a hundred years

children led back to the bay where once
it spit away ownership, when most knew the names

for a shore’s domed soul in dialect
my god you’re right the sea, all land

adjacent, godspirit cordoned from me
sit here while toes feel an ocean goddess

and she, nyi roro kidul, quietly ascertains
that security will be coming for us shortly

First published in Poetry Review