but we came so far

the red flags are up
as the bronzed boys
stand high
in their chairs
blowing whistles,
waving hands,
and yet
so many test
the ocean, its rip
of white
and fisted churn,
the bruised knuckles
of waves
pulling them
out beyond reach,
beyond saving. they swim
with a drunken
thrill, having driven
so far
to be denied the ocean,
and now being carried
by the heave of an
impossible power,
soon to dragged
to shore,
unbreathing,
blue as the sky,
with a crowd gathered
around
their still, swimless
body.