So much so that I suddenly ache
I find that I cannot shake the cypress trees from my mind.
Their roots plumb my chest and
Their fronds brush my face
And I long in a daze, a long lethargic daze with a stomach uneasy.
My eyes are drowned and stuck with salt,
My hands are violet from the cold of the waves and
I long in a daze, a long lethargic daze.
I feel ill and frenetically strange, unmoving,
Ever rearranging the position of my frame
To quell the nauseous greedy ache.
Drank herbs in a tea with milk;
Immediately scorned myself.
A gull does not make bad decisions with full consciousness.
A gull simply thinks the plastic to be the fish.
My stomach writhes as if I stand at the edge of a precipice,
The bridge which ends so far, such old and crumbling cliffs;
And a beach so rocky and ragged it calls for pathology,
Tides rough and white and slamming, quite unneighborly.
I crave air clean and cool and fresh and grey.
I wish to break open my sternum like a mussel to absorb
The dwindling day.
Scoop out with a little spoon my innards and then say,
“Enjoy them slowly for they are the entire entree.”