Click here to hear the poet read his words:
Yellow Submarine
I miss those lazy days at the beach
lying on hot sand
eating clementines and crunchy cacahouètes
I miss your ridiculous shrieks
as you encounter the first wave
if the water is half a degree
below bath temperature
I miss floating in the Mediterranean
the sea I love above all others
singing
Yellow Submarine
and the strange Scottish songs
from my childhood
that so fascinate you
I miss your company
the jokes and the laughter
I don’t miss your mood swings
your week-long sulks
your insistence that anything
that doesn’t fit your life view
is my fault
but
I do miss the cacahouètes
and
I no longer sing
Sound Bite Fiction 
Oh, I much enjoyed that–even if I have no idea what cacahouètes are. I especially liked the “I don’t miss…” parts. Excellent.
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Thanks, Bill, glad it worked for you.
Oh, peanuts, but on the beach they often come in a crunchy coating, quite nice!
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Such a melancholic poem. I’d miss it too, mood swings and all.
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Thanks, Keith. I’m not used to you being serious…
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Pingback: yellow submarine | anelephantcant
A wistful piece… love the artwork too!
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Thanks, Chris, and I’ll pass on your kind words to Phil, the talented one.
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Beautiful – and a wee bit sad.
Such vivid images, wee word-videos.
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That is what I strive for, Jenne, I love when the reader sees the the story in their mind’s eye.
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