4216. THE MONSTROUS FACINGS OF THOSE BIG TUDOR MANSIONS

THE MONSTROUS FACINGS

OF THOSE BIG

TUDOR MANSIONS

Once I swam the sound : it was a

rigorous debate whether to complete it 

or not. By the finish, I was nearly gone.

Washed like a burglar in a jailhouse

shower. Listless like a tortoise in

a cemented shell - nowhere to

go, nothing to tell.

-

I walked onto shore and saw all those

big, old houses facing the sea; with their

cloth awnings, cabanas and tea-rooms

I knew I couldn't compete. I sat on the

beach, staring to the land, and wept

behind the hiding of my tears on a

watery face. My hair still dripped.

-

As I arose, I felt to weigh ten thousand

new pounds. My feet were of lead, and

I just really wished to sleep. A few hours

later, I awoke with people around me,

picking and poking at my form : 'who

are you? where from?' and all that. I

said nothing, just frowned, and without

any meaning, pointed to the houses

fronting the beach : the monstrous

facings of those big Tudor mansions.