Slippery kelp, deep at the bottom, the sand shifting as the silent kelp waves, delicately waves, one grain of sand dislodging, floating, a diamond blue,
Or is that the water, diamond-like, blue-like, glinting, placed by your father, on your mother’s delicately waving hand,
Waving good morning, secretly enshrined, down deeper than the kelp, and kelp rind, and kelp blebs, bleeding blind, Percy Byshhe-bashed-Basho, Walt, leaves of kelp, akimbo
(Actually, kelp doesn’t have leaves…)
On the kelp-ridden, barnacle dock’s docket, wherein:
The deoxygenated moron grabs Percy by his ponytail, Walt by the tip of his white beard, squirts iodine out of the kelp, then hunts manganese nodules on the sand where the kelp had been strangely rooted:
Kelp doesn’t have roots!
Spam of Human Affection 
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