the desire of aeroplanes

the coming tide 


creeping at our toes


lingering malignant rocks

at simple shores 

and distances yet to be fallen



well wishes sent to foreign 

beaches scattered


bones of minor

beasts and better birds


lilting diamonds drift

over branches burning

without reason 

rent by lightning lingering


over fingers fecund and 

searing in green sweeps 

until the twelfth of may


near the bowery

sucking the craven air 

in ragged rifts, churned and 

burned into

rubble beyond our reach.


we leave

under the cold forgotten dawn

as empty vessels drift past

a huddle of insects frightened


hurling down the maw of

a gaping space below

they roil and tumble


towards that which

they do not know.

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