Wet sand from here to forever

It’s morning & it’s kind of raining outside
& x-number of gulls like
hours, moments, dreams, are picking up speed
& putting it down again (you
know & I know) the tempo of the dharma
is not always so easy to dance to
 
The Temple of the Drama used to be up at
Stinson Beach, it was made out of drift-
wood & sand & rusty pieces of metal if I remember right
 
let the molecules work it out among themselves
 

I used to think it was all about the journey

but right now I don’t seem to be going anywhere
 
I had bent my soul with empty waves, water density,
intervals, satellite photos, weather charts,
the tides, “The Poems” & you
& I still couldn’t tell you where I’ve been or what I saw
 
feels like I’ve spent the past few years underwater
 

TEN THINGS I DO UNDERWATER

Fall thru the mirror
slick back my eyes
nod out
listen to the Songs of the Whales
in stereo
as played by Iggy & the Stooges
write a 900 line suicide note in heroic couplets
watch a Johnny Weissmuller Tarzan movie
check to see how much time is left
wonder what happened to all of my Sub-Mariner comic books
recite the Lankavatara Sutra
count the bubbles
roll the dice
breathe