Saturday, March 19, 2011

The bankruptcies of the ocean.

"I wish I was a fisherman"

If envy we in decadence and crippling fortunes must
Let us crash then upon it, cast loopholed net wide upon the deep.

We could it's true go hungry
Or languish,

Irreversible and ambitious:

We might in marasmus perish, callus, or in cuts of salted sea
Fish and fruitlessly flesh away ...

We might anyhow pull the harvest back into our arms
Letting it disrupt the swollen

Of the ocean!

Go ahead,
Cast loopholed net wide--
For the arms--all arms, that fail to span the fingers merest search yet
Fail to suitably seek,

And, if only by withering suspicions,

Fail to find even a wavering perigee glow
Amid hungry

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