July 4, 2010


Wet grainy gravel as
sand sinks with my steps.

Walking thousands of
wind blown miles
in search of that new
new newness. Barefoot and
exposed and too old to see.

I Sift through
and step around
buoys and glass and plastic.
My skin feels that new thing
mixed in with the
civilized debris.

Tiny chunks
of black wash up to
my feet when I look away
deep from the ocean
in foamy waves
of miniature tsunamis.

They're layered like dark paper.

Layered with time I don't have.

An archaeological discovery
under a microscope. Cobbled
together for thousands
of years to be this
newness for me in
the right now.

Small black fragility
waiting to succumb to
new fire.

Creating new fire.

The earth and the sea
pressed together in
grinding ecstasy for
this small bit of
smudged energy.

thousand years to diamonds.

I like this form better.

Rough and impermanent.

Put it in my pocket
to burn later. Adding
to my fire to warm me.

To keep my body hot and
my blood in ceaseless
rotation. To let me think
and breathe again.

Adding this
ancient newness to
my fire for a
thousand years.

Palpable and ready to burn.

I never knew it was
there until my feet
stumbled upon it.

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