going left~ only left



when the moon is merely a weapons platform ~ poetry will have died

our base-camp

only go left~ left !

how does a huge link of chain wash up upon the beach

i would have taken this beauty home~ but it's overwhelming stink of iron made me think of bloody noses

point to waves and islands

black gravel~ white spume grey sky~ cold water

barbed wire is like musical notation against trespass

we'll get married here ~ again~ when the world dies and the suns turn to stars

girls ! logs ! waves !

log-jam hand

low tide greenery

where we live when we leave cities behind

pajamas !


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