03 November 2009


Paradox (11/3)

There is a break in the water
everything is rock and glass and sky
It happens on the edges of islands
mostly on Tuesdays sometimes on Sunday

There are things that build houses on these breaks
wait ouot the momentary lapses of rushing
The empty gourds of these houses are like
pumpkins are like bowls and twice as filled

Here there are places for toes to grip the undersides
the feeling is sad like sand but more like confetti
A loud sucking of the air heralds the arrivals and it comes
crashing back - this water that returns - a miniopocalypse

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