sand

I see people all the time
But I am always different
I see myself through
Other people

At the ocean
I crushed seashells
with my feet
There are whole
pieces
of shells
Stuck in my heels

Every time you step
on a shell
you make more sand
Every time you step
in the sand
it gets softer
But the sea really
does most of the work

I could see myself through
the ocean
But it wouldn’t keep me whole either

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modified

The corn field is endless if we
let it be
A minefield

If a tumor could sing it would sing in the chorus
With its peers
Counting down together
And we would hear
We’d freeze everything over now
So it will all fall off in a week or two
And we’ll work
With what we have underneath

You can’t turn money into lemonade

Rotten freeways are
Growing from the garden
The same one that grows the lemons
We can’t even imagine

Not everyone knows how to make lemonade

We only see the snowfall
Piled up by the plow-full
So we can all get to

    work.

Everyone is lucid but the dreamer

motion

The brain is an octopus or a centipede
It walks and swims
Into so many dead ends like limbs
or a maze you get lost in
There are tears storedĀ in the tentacles
It takes an earthquake to free them
But when the ground shakes
its nothing
Just another freight trainĀ moving through
Rattling the window panes but nothing comes loose
The concrete is still cold
The veins, still blue