The Subject of the Ocean

is not dead.
Nor will it ever
be.
The foam is white
all right, take it
and run with it, in your hand
on the land, the tan sand (no, too much rhyming there)

and I hate great white sharks, anyways.

But if I say "thought":
I think, he thinks, you, she, me thinks
does each wave lap
a dog at his water bowl
trying to remember
what you had for breakfast?