Take me to Portland Bill

So I can breathe freely and stand at the sharp edge of things. I could s-t-r-i-d-e along the cliffs, in yellow galoshes.

I'd fill a house with fossils and crustaceans and big chunks of boats. I'd nail dead birds to the rickety roof to keep out the wind. I'd boil up a muddy slug and seaweed brew, knit jumpers out of crab nets and make shoes out of dried eels (they'll sell like hot cakes)

I'd build a boat out of tourists' crumpled umbrellas and go late-night mackerel fishing. I'd spend time with rogues and fishermen. We'd belt out sea shanties, with mugs of dark rum that sloshes over fingers and sticks to wind-tangled beards.

Photo by Tony Hawkins