Poem dump

Geothermal

There is no light, down in the

deep sea. Where fish are shrivelled and

blind, white eyes blank, clammy skin

wrinkled and baggy. The sheer

pressure of the smothering water

has forced them into grotesque shapes,

the desperate need for food

has given them wicked teeth that cut

through fragile skin and snap

weak bones.

If you peer between the towering spires

of cooled pillow lava, glimpse the

otherworldly vents that spew

sulphur into the sea, you can just make out

the blinking lights of angler fish,

the snap of jaws closing

around some pathetic creature.

The skitter of a crab's

claws tapping on rock

is sent muffled and distorted

to echo throughout the ocean.