Bent and bearded, distantly gathered
in plush deep armchairs we blinked.
Outside the hazy morning sunlight obscured the horizon.
Inside, we calculated the cost of the room
and for the fragile biscuits passed around.
Cafeterias at elbows we made a stab at
the Natural Rights of Man-the declared topic,
“But what about animals?” one lady wondered.
5 heads with 250 years of work experience,
pondered Nietzsche and eternal recurrence.
Social skills recollected at a forlorn separation.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear a word of that,
what shall we discuss next time?”
I wanted to add a line about antimacassars too – on the armchairs. I found from the Urban Dictionary, perhaps an unusual source for this that,”The name is derived from an Indian unguent for hair commonly used in the early 19th Century , macassar oil- the poet Byron called it, thine incomparable oil, Maccassar“
The Sea is a brilliant book. I don’t think it can be matched for the quality of its poetic prose or the cleverness of its imagery both sharp and subtle. It arouses intense feelings of nostalgia, loss, impatience and relief – it’s really quite extraordinary.
