They Will Sew the Blue Sail


This is a meditation on conclusions

Drawn about the dream that I am dying

On the outside of the inside of the dream

A head in a teleprompter says

We are all dying

And I don’t hate him for it

This is a meditation with your knees

Above the waterline

Body like a flag

Staked in ambiguous territory

Elect which patterns

You must purge

Press your fingertips to

The back of the throat

When the cloth comes

Catch it

Like a magician you can pull out

Fistfuls of knots

Wrestle and unfasten them

Spread the blanket over the water’s surface

Safety-tanked in your motives

That’s when you pull the plug

To the great suck

Touch yourself

To the great suck and the air whittling

Warmth from your skin

Touch yourself

Like the bulb above the tub

The future is a bright place

We reach for

Sometimes wrap our arms around

If I dream again

It will be to this sound