Stores Of Sand



Looking back in time

like looking through the small

end of a telescope

everything starts or begins

in a dot, there you are

there we all are, there’s all our stuff.


Waiting now for you

waiting for us all to join up again

it’s like viewing what’s left of life

through the clapboard slats of a fence

or wishing for the hellish sun

to end its agony and blink out.


You and I speaking between

decades now

the floating at the top of the ocean fish

and a scavenging moon

we are both coagulated there

everything appearing as high noon.


Every day we’ll won’t we leave our

boot tracks waffle iron prints

the lunar rover with my dear you at the controls

saying everything together all at once

everything going on

all at once.