dazed in ruins, the interlocking grid
you've given us all the longing we can mend
to bark-babies, canine sheaths, torn wakes
in knotted bibs, wings in trenches, oil blood
blade babes, sand in iced glass, rattle rattle
the chill climbs twin spiders spread
greased windows, healthy prints

@ SBWCN

went to the beach today at 2 pm when the sun was high but there was still a lambswool mist of the marine layer along the sand and rocks. there was a good deal of tar on the beach and afterwards my friend and I dragged our sneakers across the grass and asphalt and just now I went to the car and noticed the smell of oil still in the air.

the summer is my favorite because the days are long and I tend to have fewer obligations. I have been estivating. It is sort of a dreamless estivation -- either very deep or very shallow -- no long strides in between. I have fewer words. the line makes shapes of non-words.

I am grateful for your work.