Oct 16, 2020
3 min read
PROSE POETRY
Snorkelling
Prose poetry
It’s my ritual, to clean the mask with water, rub some baby shampoo
On the lens, rinse, put everything back in my bag I am not using.
Ah feck I’m clumsy and invite plenty of sand to join in my ritual, oh, don’t Forget a puff on my inhaler.
