All That Jazz
She sips his wine and is launched,
as certain as any slip-way ship
slathered with a robust fizz.
No retreat now that the bubbles dance.
Seduced by a discordant jazz,
colours dazzling as a quayside band,
she slides into the tide
as blind as any night-time ship,
desperate for the pilot’s light.
On Dogger Bank, an old tossed dredger,
scuttled and sideways flung.
Quite solemnly, she slips down deep.
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