the desire of aeroplanes

the coming tide 

swept

creeping at our toes

 

lingering malignant rocks

at simple shores 

and distances yet to be fallen

upon

 

well wishes sent to foreign 

beaches scattered

with

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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