The Masthead
The Masthead This place I rest becalmed above habitual chores horizon-blind seduced back to myself by luxury of time and temperature the liquid air the solid sea the singularity of elements, and love, and loving, lose myself in sea and air and oak plank so that falling would not bring horror, memory of me me me rushing up to smash or swallow. In fact I dream I will not fall will not forget this cellular seduction this reveille played through hexagonal hearts of hydrogen and oxygen and carbon miraculous call to arms that hold everything all at once the silly gravity of love. Sherry Robbins, Or, the Whale, BlazeVOX [books]
Sherry Robbins 