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At the Coast

November 28, 2014

The coasts, East & West
right & left, are jaws
closing on the great emptiness
between, granite teeth of Maine
biting on the molars of Oregon’s
coast, crunching me, the coffee-
house honies, grit between its teeth
dug out by a fingenail
toothpick, postcard, bus pass
the Ocean’s dentures grinding hills
roads, houses, our Malls & trees
into what the Ocean eats, a stew
of cans, bottles, of birthday cakes
road-side stands, glass skyscrapers
boardwalks, afternoons, typewriters
museum catalogs, bedsheets, patios
newspapers, freight trains, & garbage cans.
All gone down the maw of the Ocean
along with my desires, despairs, & tears.


From → Poems

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