Brenda Shaughnessy & Amy Key: Liquid Flesh
London Review Bookshop Podcast
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The Seaside Poem
This is a poem that sort of starts with me, a spoiler. I don't think that I can read our family on the run. See and community, or there is no I in sea. The answer is to become my own pet, hungry for plenty in a plentiful place. There's no true solitude only, only. At seaside, I have that familiar sense of being left out. But in human surface, the sea has always open. I'm too afraid to go in. I give no yes, full of shame, but refuse to litter ever. I pick myself up.
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