The ocean of English
puts a little English on me
and I spin as I fall
from the crest to the trough.
It's a shore game,
an underwater name,
a bubbling monument
to grains and grains of sand.
Oh, that's the word for that?
Well, these are the words for this:
fit bills to ducks
and you have quacks and walks.
Rhyme grime cannot release
romance from its teeth --
that's the sentence that means a feeling
that we cannot help but feel.
Is the a waterfowl of the sea?
Does the air care about classification?
It's only fair to leave yourself open
to a little cliché buzz.
Roman Ryan 