but to crash...

waves rise
but to crash!

there is not
a single
wave

remains
like a statue
in the sky

why
would "i"

remain so?

frozen,
immobile,
image of Virgin Mary
even,
dead!

who ever
a statue
was?

not even
for an instant
did you have hold of
the ground

the earth
was never
yours

even as you
were birthed from the soil,
you held nothing
at all

just a drifter,

not even a moment
is so

not even this...

what label could possibly
contain
the unboxable,
undefinable,
forever new,
forever unseen?

without a label

what are you?

without a band-it,
brand-it,
band-aid...

what?

where,
how

is the "edge"

where "you" end....
and an "other" be gins...?

sweet
heart
is
the merge-
ing
wave
crashing
crashing
crashing

all con cepts
into smitherings

yum
mee
warm
sun
shining ing ing i  n   g

c r   a    s    H !     !       !

being right
just hit
the dirt...

slid into the unfathomable depths

such a tiny tiny tiny mad (made uP) idea...

dissolved,
never to be seen/attached to
again

just try to find it,
(the rightness/the wrongness of that spider eating the fly...),
 blood dripping from it's lips...

that handful of soiled linen
in the SEE

all sheets
are white
threads
of cotton
plants
that from the blackest
soil
rose

all sails
fly
but
to crash

look for
the anchor,

the anchor,

where is your heart now,
mate?

where is your heart?

the ocean of your heart
on which all boats sail...
and sink
but to rise
and crash...

and crash and rise and sink...