1 blue is always higher just as your weariness has chosen the sea just as a man's gaze compels the sea to be twice as desolate
going back as ever to that carved stone ear where drumbeats are destroyed where tiny coral corpses fall in a snowstorm
gaudy speckles on dead fish like the sky that holds all your lust
go back to the limit like limitlessness going back to the cliffs storm heads all around your pipes doomed to go on playing after your death tunes of corruption deep in the flesh
as blue is recognised at last the wounded sea a million candles stands dazzlingly still
2 reality belittles the madness of poets again a child has the right to reveal a brief death flame brings crowds of bodies back down to zero hate has united the ashes of early spring thick smoke spat from stamens grows prouder still in tranquility
the pure terror of your wish this one day has used up each day's bitter grief when fire chokes the lung's lobes seawater watches mother’s limbs swirl and evaporate last year's garden is squeezed out on the sea
rising to the zenith through the blank cries of seagulls the non-licit deaths of young children make death understudy for spring a chance enmity the enmity of all your future in the darkness because of a refusal to live in this moment
3 what's drab and what's drably copied is criminal someone living alone on a cliff is closer to the edge than the cliffs are you are battered by a thousand tons of blue rock eyes can't dodge the ocean's battering
what watches the day and what's stripped bare by the day time the hard-core pornography of the dead
a fishbone polished still sharper can never be wrong
a drop of blood has diluted waters that embrace sunken ships ivory archaic and ruthless as a balcony trees net green shoals in their branches again
in this snow-white sickroom that white is breeding breasts bared on rooftops gales change each hand too gentle the sky's legs pinned down by the bedrail
for the sea the ocean slides more dumbly in dreams a cockroach twitches terribly like a human
what's past and what's spat out by the past is only flesh in this reality you called to memory there's only faraway flesh rejecting blue cliffs the sea that rejected wings is smashed to pieces on your face the lying biography each wave writes with light and an eye staring at the edge is a fresh oyster where the necrosis of last night goes endlessly back
