After Seabed

After Seabed

What is more unsounded than water 

caught in the hollow

of the bowl of the

glass and stone

bird bath?

Evaporating is simply it, being.

It is its rapt compulsion

and alms gathering, a

kind of duff

and frigate

-like

ease to slice completely

through (reflected) or

be needed, freely:  

tin or finger-

tips and lips,

drawn

by penury, tongue rigged

to set east where all

glottal gods pause,

all talking stops

with this:

water.

 

To truss the tongue so

that deserts remain

not (but only

if you're

careful

of every drop) so,

so lonely.