7.7.12

as the wind sharpened itself on a rock.


yesterday i woke up with four dollars to me.
The first thing i did was search my pants 
pockets and the bottom of my backpack

then i had four dollars and fourtyfive cents
to me
I lagwalked into town and spend the day
with a bag full of unions and rutabega
froma bearproof dumpster with a click-track crank-arm

Will came back from his harbor later that day.
I filled my pockets with my hands and we
looked out toward the west across the inlet.
it was clear enough to see redoubt and augustine
but it was not clear enough to see if they were blowing ash.
the wind blew cold  as it came off the water
and i pulled a mint from my pocket that had been there
I bit it and gave half to will
as we talked about how green we'd once been
and there are some camped near us who've never been here.
I cooked them pasta on their second night.
It had rained since they got in
and you could tell they were down because
they were already talking about sisyphus.

when i met them I walked through a marsh
to get to where they were huddled, looking green as tourists
and as i handed them each a handshake they gaped their eyes
and mouths at my muddy clarks and ankles.

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