Saturday, January 14, 2006
Southsea
I wandered, crunching through a hundred thousand pebbles.
A ships purple silhouette drifts silently by in the suns haze.
Froth is accumulating at the rim of a wide ocean.
Single mothers and children cover themselves up and atempt to throw their hair back against the unfettered wind.
A life float sticks up like a lollypop amongst clumps of seaweed, tied to a crumbling post, viridian waves lapping at its feet.
Tankers curdle their way back and forth through the water, back and forth, to and fro, from various buildings that seem to be constructed on tiny stilts. Openly they deliver their goods in full view of the people strolling along the shore having their day out, walking their pets, not embarrassed at all by their bulk nore their mysterious cargo.
Just a short swim away and the steel vessels barge their way through the water, moaning like whales as their vertical fields of rust scrape against the concrete legged platforms, water swirling around, gargling and swelling with the physical efforts of the two metal dogs fighting blindly for port space, their sonic reverberations echoing down towards the depths.
Some look like rockets, some like big fat thatched cottages, making up a series of small communities facing inwards from the sea, forming a circle. It seems like the more the midday haze lifts the more the city of forms becomes clearer.
