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Saturday, May 3, 2014

THE SEACIDE


The ghost of a coast. The corpse of a shore. The skeleton of a wave.
A powdery calcium phosphate strand heated by a celestial surgeon's light.
The living sizzle in the ashes of the dead and make sandcastles in the 'dust to dust'.
All the gulls have died and the only things that fly are the flies.
Take a walk. Take a swim. Take a dive.
Die. Dissolve. Become the environment.
Ignore the air raid sirens.

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