MaNHaTTaN Linear

by Charles Pierre

On this low-lying island, edged all around
with surf, land and water absorb each other
along the beaches, where wind-driven tides
wash sand to the sea, then shower it back
across shore, killing those that swim or walk
too near the coast, weaving their flesh, bones
and shells in tangled strips of straw and kelp,
to be sucked en masse into the ocean’s maw.