Wednesday, December 21, 2011

gone to the sea, oh empty belly

Dreamt a plane spectre
crashed into the sea: come out the sky to drown
so many bodies in the blackgreen
Puget Sound.
Shoes, ineffably, flew into the air,
legs and arms and things untellable
on impact. I cracked ribs and coughed blood
with throwing up, bent over
against a park bench
in a pink vaporous evening's end.
Rat-ah-tat went my teeth
at the rail. I imagined your face
in a window pressed
against the heavy glass,
peanuts still salty
in your mouth, and I thought
how life barely fits
barely fits
in those little plastic cups.
The sun came up to prove against
your ending;
I woke with your nibbling
and was glad to know you again.

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