YES (YES)
I am running this boat over the edge of the water;
a hard edge of glass, a clear sheet I can see through,
watching things go by. It is all a blur, like flying from
Parto to Balaroo, those distant stars I placed atop the
firmament I left long ago. And now, everywhere I
look, a hard, bright sunlight reflects off every
surface - the blast of illumination, the fiery glow
of presence, a reflected glory of all which is. I slow;
over there, atop that bulkhead and patio deck,
someone has suspended an effigy of a man - could
be a sailor or cowboy as well, I cannot readily
identify. A hanging human it is not; instead just
something to remind one of what it could be.
An outstretched hand, hanging there, in the
wind. At the same time, this boat slow-glides
over the shining water. Part of me wishes to
sing. Part of me wants to scream. I am caught
between two worlds, like a slime creature just
learning, ashore, to walk on two legs.
I am running this boat over the edge of the water;
a hard edge of glass, a clear sheet I can see through,
watching things go by. It is all a blur, like flying from
Parto to Balaroo, those distant stars I placed atop the
firmament I left long ago. And now, everywhere I
look, a hard, bright sunlight reflects off every
surface - the blast of illumination, the fiery glow
of presence, a reflected glory of all which is. I slow;
over there, atop that bulkhead and patio deck,
someone has suspended an effigy of a man - could
be a sailor or cowboy as well, I cannot readily
identify. A hanging human it is not; instead just
something to remind one of what it could be.
An outstretched hand, hanging there, in the
wind. At the same time, this boat slow-glides
over the shining water. Part of me wishes to
sing. Part of me wants to scream. I am caught
between two worlds, like a slime creature just
learning, ashore, to walk on two legs.
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