montauk

i wrote this while walking around the rocky beaches at montauk. of course- you really needn't know that, considering it has no relevance to the poem.



you arrive exhaling timorous fog


and coughing on weeds, unkempt hair


and a little mercury-mad

-
you’re breathing and singing and sifting through every listed question


making philosophy teachers seats creak and backs ache –


i can almost smell the pages


burning as i watch them slither past

two by two



you’ve been gone finding yourself.

but all you found


      was everything else.