... addiction ..., ... beauty ..., ... country ..., ... experimental ..., ... life ..., ... love ..., ... ocean ..., ... pain ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... the South ..., ... time ...

Found life, turned left

i am lost in
irreverent woods of
Wandering. witness

to all her levity. and,
bound by her gravity. and,
construed for her vanity.

all of our oceans have
emptied into the others’
and passionless waters
must not coexist.

when once, all men
were islands – we broke
backs to pull meaning

into our lives; and rebuild
Pangaea.

but we were made to surrender
loneliness. concealed in a
backwater, i believe i am

choosing to not be a purchase.
isolation before carnality.
when all the world is wilderness, and

when all the rest of the salmon
have sapped themselves to
the very last against the

Constant Current, you will find me
riding downstream into
an empty Pacific.

Because, fuck it.

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