Song

The brush of something heavy and wet
                              against your leg in passing
a rustle behind your back a flicker
                              in the corner of your eye
like an uneasy awareness you don't
                              want to acknowledge
a weariness and impatience
                              with the repetition
of energy and ambition, always new
                              theories, life-forms, styles

It's like the ocean, processions of waves
                              cresting the horizon
moving toward you. If only you could sink
                              down through the gritty sand
and opalescent oval pebbles
                              deep enough not to return.
...