Existence
I sink my hands into the ledge of a shore,
wheezing gentle ripples form;
Order disarranged.
Curious- curious as I became something e l s e
Drifting flakes of myself,
Kalaiedoscopic
Like tiny spot in a grain
Within this moment
High-speed prisms of chaos
In russet and chrome, purple onyx emerge
Watching them spinning inside my chest
There is no reality, though.
I rivet along a sea
Daring the crest that wades, so impusively,
Existence rubbing my flesh, as I sink my hands into the ledge of a shore.
Get Your Scissors Out: Cut-Up Poems/Word Collage
For Charlotte Puddifoot
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