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|Poetry About Caithness|
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|My fat pads
of oil-skinned flesh spread
over the rock like dough and glisten.
Blubber. Drip with a silver sheen but Iím so
heavy you wouldnít call it sleek.
Jowls. Damp nose like a dogís.
Come and see me slide over my rock,
I dance, I weave waves. Not just blues and greens
Sloping back onto my rock with my flippers jutting
my hair coat brill-creamed, back-combed.
a croak, a yelp full of silt and echoes in empty
About Fiona Hamilton
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