Seaside shore-rocks crustaceans
scaling the famished coral
Executed by the scorch sun tide
clawing skyline from liquid partition
I am squatting with knees pointed at
shelf-clouds
Buttocks fashioned to dead cities of
microorganism condominiums
Staring at waves undulating like a
typewriter ribbon
Regurgitating copy of a library
stack after stack
Fresh catch is stale herring bone
dry and masked in departed maggots
Skeleton whimpering like the third
generation after a war
Never seen those battlefields, but
the busted-bottle buildings
The cascading cluster-fuck commerce,
the devilish dogma makes the alliteration comical
Like the hangnails of a past
stripping regrowth like salted Earth
Wanting the ocean to swallow back
the evidence
The bastard stars melt the cover to
wash away leaving the stragglers naked
Wandering in vagabond paw-print
echoes waltzing to pogrom song books
As to why us, the explanation like a
surgeon general’s printed warn-box
The massacred blackened lungs and
polyp cancer livers
Cackling in the fallout of nuclear
half-lives
As I watch from this perch
The cellular decay parades like a
foundation for positioning
Of the sun to set in the West
Night, sweet charcoal midnight
Merging the sea and the shore like a
dance floor of common footing
Oh, the fires that ruin such
perfection!
I almost got up and thought to take
up the tango, maybe next time.
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