top of page

staying afloat


the missiles

engaged in

the river

            an armada

            in the

            stream that

                                    never calls

                        but runs

                        or whips

            with danger

tumble through

lungs full

and keep

eyes open

we say

but fall

asleep touching

in our

beds     moving

waters with

the vessel

and with

neither nors

and bombs

that never

know   where

they’re going

bottom of page