the table is crazy

If you have arrived

Please write “arrived”

In the sand on this table

You are more beautiful than

Never still moving away see-through water

Sometimes I catch a glimpse of you

By accident in exit exiting in dissolving


You are more beautiful than

melting hailstones on the back of a runaway horse


I have finished

It has been described to me

As a real physical feeling

the last and most prolific stage of the forever uncertain

I knew how to do it from childhood, I knew how to do it

From werewolves and bats and dead horses,

Never a day without buzzards somewhere revolving,

Singing in circles they seemed to be scarcely pretending

Not to know they were going, so persistent, so

Casual to never have touched one,

I think of a friend who's being a mother, protecting,


You can feed me

Into one of the frantic

Living machines

I'll come out salty, shredded, astonished

A real physical feeling

Has been described to me