
Arms wide, “Come hither!”
beckons the great mothership—
rooted in the ground.

Arms wide, “Come hither!”
beckons the great mothership—
rooted in the ground.

As a pop-up shop
in the middle of nowhere,
a spring in nature.
I have to go.
There’s no reason—
or one to stay for.
There’s no sense—
or sensibility anymore.
There’s no pride—
only prejudice reigns.
There’s no soul—
so bodies a wander.
There’s no air—
except mechanised oxygen.
I have to go—
for beach breathes life
into my suffocation.

It yawns, moans, and groans,
oi! tiny, puny human,
hails alpha ocean.

She’s large, mean, and green
shields the world from humankind—
the mother of all.