plosm

the pine splits and
termites tumble fast from
the fat faultlines

i wish i could fix
the sawdust railings
with my fastigata

but hovering between
devas and devils
like an aquarian
crafty and sublime

i remain subdued
and sing instead
to an ember
in a sodden heart

later in the halflight
i am caught
re-ordering the library

only lies sustain the task
like this book, this boat i launch

a career in the services
would inure me
for the uneven ritual of the sea

taking up my things
a ballpoint pen
tumbles childishly
into the waste basket