Robert Graves (1895–1985). Fairies and Fusiliers. 1918.

25. I Wonder What it Feels Like to be Drowned?

LOOK at my knees,

That island rising from the steamy seas!

The candles a tall lightship; my two hands

Are boats and barges anchored to the sands,

With mighty cliffs all round;

They’re full of wine and riches from far lands.…

I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?

I can make caves,

By lifting up the island and huge waves

And storms, and then with head and ears well under

Blow bubbles with a monstrous roar like thunder,

A bull-of-Bashan sound.

The seas run high and the boats split asunder.…

I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?

The thin soap slips

And slithers like a shark under the ships.

My toes are on the soap-dish—that’s the effect

Of my huge storms; an iron steamer’s wrecked.

The soap slides round and round;

He’s biting the old sailors, I expect.…

I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?