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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