Thetis rectifies

Ties
and rails, parallel only to themselves, and one who runs.
crunching gravel under pressure. Bare feet knock on
pressed Southern Pacific wood. Faster, stronger.
head down, eyes useless. feel the iron horse
snort miles. The line straight, no deceit.
two slats at a time, pistons hammer
their argument to unkind ballast.
Steam is the only perspiration.
Now the yards become feet,
which leave hard friction
and touch steel pilot
machine breach
engine yields
kinetic hate
breaks.

Four-finger fist

Yeah.
Uh huh.
Of course.
Jaws clench.
So, guess what?
I've forgotten how.
It doesn't matter what
it is I've forgot. It's gone.
Mind plays tricks. 52 pickup.
Sick like a smile. Maybe the flu.
Could be regret. Not sure about that.
I swallow. It's empty. My tongue is gone.
maybe carpet the narrow path with my dreams.
Gotta be good for something. You shuffle your feet.
And while walking, you reach for someone else's hand.
Zap.

Ulmo + Nienna

OK, yeah.
I wrote this, like, 3 years ago now. Why am I posting it? I'm sure if you've been reading, you'll catch my drift.

Pacific

The concrete path melts...
And there is only
grass, coast, ocean.

Shoes bite into the juicy sand
like a bitter apple.
Undertow fills the cavities,
leaving foamy circles behind
like dead jellies.

High tides try to drown the shore,
intentions like water, clear.

"Look at the waves," gulls wail,
"teal and sequined,
pristine" their beaks laugh.

The 'glamorous' ocean,
so hollow,
empty like a puppet.

I prefer the rocks.

The skipping stones and gravel
scrape-clunk aloha
as they drift on the shore.
Dull gems better
than De Beers understands.

Some pebbles just shrink
away into the murk,
glad to leave the seaside.
You can't really tell where they go;
in the ocean, I've heard
rocks roll below.

Carved, depleted,
they might return to the
saline breeze,
to rest, finally dry.

Mocked by the sea,
teased by shells,
this sand was once a
boulder.

Now, ground to grains,
scattered and swept,
drifts of snowflakes
that never melt.
The beach swims in from the water,
sun-blonde and tan
like a surfer girl.

I take some home in my shoes,
some inside.