on the Last Day of my Old Life ~ Sean Wai Keung


ocean waves

breaking against my face

is supposed to be refreshing.

It isn’t. The salt

in the water

burns parts of me I didn’t know

could be burned.

Bacteria and fish nibble parts of me

to bones.

My bones feel damp, slightly

mottled from all this poetry

the locals tell you-

the legends say a dragon live here

in perfect harmony with a chicken

and a horse-headed mermaid.

The locals spend

hundreds of hours

in the pub

crying sometimes.


I spend my last fiver

on a pack of ten

and a half-pint.

I sit and wait for the ocean

as the locals look on

pretending not to see


currently lives in Norwich, England. Multiple winner of Farrago Poetry Slam, past Editor of Lunar Poetry magazine and Poetry Weekly magazine as well as co-founder of Unmade Bed.

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