Sacramental Agnostic, Mr Christian


I arrive by way of mutiny.

As second to the self’s captaincy

I amend a creed in this squall.


Slops of Councils wash

from the tarred deck. This briny

world is a fictive place


I’ve never been

outside a tale of grizzled

tropes that signify fidelity


of a kind, or otherwise.

Everything’s deep green

and lurching, alongside


an oceanic discipline

that feels a lot like chaos.

The sea’s obedient


to an ancient rule, predating

humankind, predating bios.

The trick is to bear with it


or abstain: the able vessel’s

deference to the swell

the body’s nous for land.

Share This

Back to Authors