going left~ only left

loggin'

crabbn'

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 !

NE!L~

some endless spume. . . La Push

spume !

my spaceship moves closer to the water every year
people love to shoot things / everything
portal
yarn-bombers attack
recliron

hurricane force winds /sideways rain / hail
young logonauts
within the log

Spume !!!!
spume diver

why they're called fir trees

oh, the things he could possibly see
from the playground you could see the swell breaking outside of James Island, way outside
like fingers about to grab him way from the ocean
he must have dove too hard~ Dashiell told me



it was the annual kayak contest/ but it was much too big for mortals in plastic shells and Vanagons
what i live for~ first light
brushed against the lips of rushing waves





these could never replace / these



this could have been his last camp
check out my foot print~ scale reference
the trees don't need the wheels of the world

and, i almost fucking paddled out
what stopped me ?
NE!L~ away from all the seals