seasons

the headlines read today
someone caught a fugitive line
that was something like:
"but the sea is too far to swim"

it crawled out of the slop
in a world war trench
slinked up the ditch
like an amoeba sprouted legs
to up and leave the ocean
through and through
like the development
of skeletal structure
calcification of the first bone
a ring in the marrow
the tone of dispossession
which resides between keys
somewhere before your voice
meets mine

today my tears roll on
like the back hills of pennsylvania
that time we tricked sunday
and our eyes glazed sedate
off the sounds of synthesized
billboard hits and brown gravy
a hole in our brains
bigger than a bread box
torn off the residual effects
of engineered epiphanies
and i asked in twenty questions
if it was magic

we piled stones and whispered
in the waterfall's shadow