Her fingers moved among barnacles and mussels, blue-black, sharp-edged. Neon red starfish were limp Dalis on the rocks, surrounded by bouquets of stinging anemones and purple bursts of spiny sea urchins. Janet Fitch, “White Oleander”

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‘The Coal Jetty’ by Sinead Morrissey

Twice a day, / whether I’m lucky enough / to catch it or not, // the sea slides out / as far as it can go / and the shore coughs up // its crockery: rocks, mussel banks, beach glass, / the horizontal chimney stacks // of sewer pipes, / crab shells, bike spokes. / As though a floating house // fell out of the clouds / as it passed / the city limits,

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