The Ocean Floor

… somewhere, out there, deep in the interminable ocean a Blue Whale, a hundred feet long, follows its gravitational pull you have returned to the waters where life began

I grab your tail, the wingspan of a small plane, you – monstrous, ocean-bound beast, largest of all creatures

that ever lived on my planet, spouting steam

as you cruise at twenty knots, your two hundred tons

of mammoth rage is mine

at last, we are sailing together, finally, Father

can you feel me diving through one of your man-sized blood vessels, while your stubborn pride soars on,

never able to settle, even though your chosen

country had changed, your home remained an island

in your childhood heart

well, this is your watery country now, Clasford, and say hello

to my new circle of acquaintances hereabouts,

a body of restless beings like yourself

because you will not release me

underneath the sea is the cold abyss

trenches a hundred miles wide into which you are falling

no daylight here, no photosynthesis in this underworld of gloom

an orange pea-shaped membrane eats you and becomes you,

shooting streaks of bioluminescent liquid into the black

there are fish with teeth so large their mouths won’t close

others with eyes bigger than their bodies,

there are Firefly Squids here, Father

neon tips on their tentacles, bodies radiating with photophores,

like spangly lurex, but the pressure on my lungs

is too much and I am bursting with tears

as we sink seven miles down to the ocean’s deepest trench, yet

here still, are pink coral polyps

pink coral polyps

your carcass lies, a long grey rock on the ocean bed, your chinless

wonder of a son is a scavenger at your flank,

a black slithery hagfish with no jaw,

wrapped like an eel into a knot to better extract your nutriments

this is where you belong now, this is home, embedded in clay

and fine oozes from sea creatures,

and when all your flesh is digested

I will suck all the energy from your bones

until I release you

I will take what is mine …

Eastern Anatolia

S We were driving towards our destination …

J First had to detour up to Ankara, didn’t we, to apply for impossible-to-get visas. Told officials we were going for interviews as teachers in Kuwait City (brainwave)

S Somehow, they bought it

J My mind is a powerhouse. My charm its tenants (not that it’s appreciated)

S Across the eastern fields of Turkey. Fewer towns. Fewer people. Less friendly. No foreign number plates, except ours. ‘Ours’?