candy banks a gentle slither,
the mute man walks
the pier
buckets of shrimp wait
off screen there
the dream
has found material, the cold
ocean relents and its
madness crawls up to my door,
giving gifts of rubber
and powdered milk, candy
fronds its deep mind,
so crossed
it erase each thought, with
a memory, a feeling
tone, in gelatin, golden
sepia, a drift wood holding
to the living
shore, being dragged
back out to dread sea.
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