glass teeth

island pirate mask warmwords meticulously cultivated
still
thoughts dribble sideways in
blood ink
coagulate on pulp
thin dressing on a deep wound
no thoughtful phrases beat
sorrow back
no meditation releases
terminal exasperation
of the flesh
of the mind
of the spirit

it is to be a journey then
off to the forest
where nothing will bother you
unaffected by mortal issues
trees are preoccupied with synthesizing
morning ’til evening
the moss will suck up your footprints
but when the leaves crash down
you must run to the ocean
or be exposed
water head-rushing into itself
perpetual frothing
sunrise to sunset
billions of glass teeth
willing to open up
and swallow you whole
and if they do
you’ll never make it
to the mountains
or
the desert beyond

Advertisements