Oh boat, foghorn, breadcrumbs ...

Oh boat, foghorn, breadcrumbs
and sill a fear of thrown away Eating an oyster
from its shell with lemon where she whispers
Aphrodisiac, heard as amniotic in a trick
of wanton fisheries
No. No. Don't make progress too far in.
individual time, already reddened by a museum,
she was choke at a lapping Spanish ocean.
Another, three children in the waves playing charades.
Remember? That feather cast down that bottled blue.
hair dancehall by the ocean to swim to