Slippery

Slippery

Standing
Shall low tide
Ebb fluently
With no thing
Nothing to halt me
Travelling in all to hurtling
The break-neck-speed
All but beyond me, until presently
Just the problem, so slippery
In tide
You encroach me almost physically
A tempting, pensively
Poor fool
To breach me quite openly
Dry mouth empty
Soft
As you fail in me

It’s the hype man gratuitously
Take the
Hoax man
Deep
Below the super fishy sea