The Atoll

Albin (cont.)
It lacks for nought and combs for gizzard stones
Ill wrap this hide of pilot whale around
My shoulders snug this suicide sized main sail
The fishnet bag of coconuts cecede
Giacomo
Is there no end to this pink griddle plate?
Im dying for shelter from the scorching sun
Ill kneel and wash away my steaming sweat
From burning eyes in this low tide rock pool
Is heat stroke making me delusional?
A pilot whale beached skeleton picked clean
Lying on a windowdressing bed of kelp?
(Chants)
The pilot captain their first mate
Banged Cathy Katey then a Kate
Gave not so much as stroke of leg