On my way home
Dead cell
No pay phone
i’malone
And my patience
Was lost so long ago
It’s with the ancient’s
Paddling to and fro
Saddling the weight of displacement
Swirling in the river’s undertow,
wait,
Watch the waves wash away the way we went,
Slosh, dunk, cross off the coastline, another day’s spent
Lost,
You owe
Your ghosts;
My ghost’s’ll find
Mine warm sternum; skin;
Heaving under a dipping chin

Clingers come, come in
And stay,
Let me tell you who I’ve missed,
Settlers of settled mist,
Those who doze away,
Thou knows it’s always those who go away

Dreaming in boats; screaming in throats of flotsam spray

That is to say some
Notes and string
Of nothing
More important
Than its own offering

Softening
Like
Fingers
din-din drum
On a thin skinned plum

Dawns begun to run

Distinctly pink
In inks of blue

From done comes do

Due distant

Yonder

An instrument
Of the instant

A lifetime

Longer