The shout of my poetry aims at you
you've crossed an ocean on waves of spacetime
but the seal heads bobbing along offshore
bring you right back, just a stone's throw away

as close as dammit our better selves
grown beautiful and braver perhaps
beautiful smiles, brave eyes perhaps
recognising something of yourselves in us

looking back through the power of a teardrop
the same power that silences
the cheery misery vendor of any age
and that power you have perfected

How can you hear these shouts? I hope you do.
How can you help me? Believe me, you do.