sitting on the ground in all sorts of places
and today I’m at the edge
of waves and water
water and waves
rolling sound and
rumbling cloud
tumble stumble
roam-rambling
around and around
and around
bent clock chiming
a litany of blue
false mirror memories
written only in sand
waves and water
water and waves
wearing down bone-sharp corners and
twisted-knife wounds
bash-crashing
ripple dancing
up the coast of blind deception
drowning out the sound
of simple silence
concealed in the shade
of broken boulders
pounding
washing
polishing
clean
these broken-tainted
pickled ghosts
drinking rich
from thirst’s existence
…
