WHEN THE DREDGE
COMES TO THE SHORELINE
I am sure you've experienced the things of this life:
those forward warts and back-winding stances, the
twisted skeins of storied yarn. Each little cat-thread
twirls back on itself. We are of the DNA of a star.
And then, by happenstance, here we are - stranded
but like a strand as well of what we're made of : the
annihilation of waiting, the depth and strength of all
that desire. There are tyrants and liars and creeps and
buffoons all around us; we just can't turn away. Like
the small kid at the fire, we must watch between
the fingers covering our feeble eyes. And there
just aren't words enough to speak the truth.
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