Do Right, Never Mind

Long as I do right, never mind
what I appreciate.
That seems a dangerous thought.
Or its opposite.

The mind wiggles the
senses like fingers
through the chain-link.

Lightning strikes a sinner’s house.

The nose turns towards her.

The steeple is not immune,
no, it begs for it first.

Long as one does right,
forget where one was going with that . . .

. . . that sharp heavy thought
one had retrieved out back
to think.

Looking out the window
at the sun
burning cooly on the water.

The tentacles flicking the
foam around.

In the waves—
not really; really elsewhere—
the roar of war.
The horde-charge,
the rippling—shush.
Push, suck,
lift, wobble,
wait, shine.





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