Magical Realism vs. Middle Age
This beach is more frightening
The waves drag the stones
The collisions adding up
To a furious cacophony
Turn my hearing aid down
Then it gets freakier
The noise quietened
To a bag of bones
Used to love magical realism
Until it all became too real
Younger me
Would hope for the jellyfish cadavers
To rise upon their tentacles
And tell me I’m the one
Before opening the waves
To a Miyazaki city
Full of the unexplainable
And nonsensical
Now I just run away
Because I’m pretty sure one of the suckers moved.
Bio: Scott Cumming unsuspectingly went to see Garden State wearing his Shins tee. He has been published at The Daily Drunk, Punk Noir Magazine, Versification, Mystery Tribune and Shotgun Honey. His poem, “Blood on Snow”, was voted the best of Outcast Press Poetry Things We Carry issue and nominated for a Pushcart. His collection, A Chapbook About Nothing, was released in December as part of Close to the Bone’s First Cut series. Twitter: @tummidge Website: https://scottcummingwriter.wordpress.com/
Fevers of the Mind 
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