flat warm sea for those grizzled baby-men
roaring peoples descend all hills on full diesel
across the street a small triangular girl
danced into her wendy house
I hear our humidity is rising
so gulls strafe the red roofs
the invasion set off sixty years ago
I was conceived in woods near here perhaps (not)
a ship like an insect on sheet metal
compresses its signals invisibly
sun slides on and on
into the unknown seas
the input is throughput this continuity
I edit in place around my mannish chops