Sugar and Flowers

7 Jun

Burial/Four Tet – Moth

Slung over a dune at the beach
after severing all ties, my eyes can reach
clouds pushing water down round the world.
Why are we here, is the question each
of us asks. When will the answer be unfurled
and presented to us, a pill bug uncurled.

I won’t hold my breath waiting for that peach.

The triangles on the skin of my hand
match the triangles I drew in the sand
they separate and recreate
and turn into all of the thoughts that I had.
My mind’s eye dilates and I evaluate
each image as it fluctuates, dissipates,

Makes me sad.

If the meaning of life were revealed,
I’d feel claustrophobic. It would yield
the possibility of perfection. I’d be ground
in ground, unable to move, knee deep in a field
of answers, giving the game away. Forever around
those who are golden gate bound.

I prefer the rules concealed.

The things we do will never last
an eternity. Think of all the things past
that are no more. Even if we try to scrawl
and scribe, our work will sink in oceans vast.
Books and books they line the wall,
thousands took to write them all.

The great sink last, with the mast.

On this beautiful golden beach I lay
beside the meaning I have today.
Granted it may change, but so will I.
Those still statues can wait and pray
for a sign, a message from on high.
My meaning is what I decide.

Come and swim with me, my girl of May.

image:Eltjo Poort

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