The dawn beyond the fir
leads you out the door.
It’s cooler than you think,
and brighter at the shore.
Waves and crabs fall in line,
and from the deep the mussels cry,
What’s this mercy for?
The dawn beyond the fir
leads you out the door.
It’s cooler than you think,
and brighter at the shore.
Waves and crabs fall in line,
and from the deep the mussels cry,
What’s this mercy for?
my bucket with stars
is more brilliant than the last
until the road ends abruptly
and perplexity is as toffee
on your tongue
You hear the ache within you say,
Disquiet does not make a sound.
It was not a rock
but a heart
that he tapped:
a stone of blood.
Free it from the can, please.
Stop mashing the albacore.