flat warm sea for those grizzled baby-men
roaring peoples descend all hills on full diesel

across the street a small triangular girl
danced into her wendy house

I hear our humidity is rising
so gulls strafe the red roofs

the invasion set off sixty years ago
I was conceived in woods near here perhaps (not)

a ship like an insect on sheet metal
compresses its signals invisibly

sun slides on and on
into the unknown seas

the input is throughput this continuity
I edit in place around my mannish chops