Pools of soup sit everywhere.
A plastic stew on shores stripped bare.
Ingredients from some human friends.
Some fishing line brings a ghostly hue.
With nurdles like lentils to our stew.
An oil can just floats on by.
A flip-flop now for some texture.
A dash of shards for some bite.
Add a lighter for some heat.
Or some lids, like parsnip sliced.
Now mix it up in a pool with some foam and you shall see...
A plastic stew from my plastic sea.
YOU ARE READING
Polymeric Rhapsody
PoetryA collection of poetry about my adventures in a plastic sea. #wattys2019
