Tidal

A rocky beach with crashing waves
where shells the size of lampshades
are pulled from the gray sand just
like dust out of the corner
of your eye. The bright red sky
is like an exit wound
for the whole earth and the blood
is being drained in the shape
of a spiral by just the gravity
of the sun, but it doesn’t
bother anyone.
She laughs from the rocking chair
on her plywood balcony
that creeks and sways with the bursts
of raging wind. The empty soup cans
hanging from chains looped over screws
drilled into the metal awning
clang together like an erratic
aluminum applause.
What could be the cause
of all this chaos, all this
wasteful death?
She dives into the waters
with a knife taped to her hand
and holds her breath.

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