dug a fresh hole & called it "ocean."
waited for the water to return.
have you heard they are growing meat
in buckets? talking to walls of muscle
& saying, "you were born for devouring."
then again, weren't we all? i used to be
a vegetarian by which i mean i wanted to be
dismembered like a head of lettuce.
one leaf of my heart at a time.
the shoreline is only two street away.
we used to say "landlocked" & we'd mean
something less severe. i update my phone
& wait for it to load whatever future
i'm going to be taught to need.
use the gps to find the grave. we buried
the cow's bones after boiling them for broth.
a rib under my pillow i ask, "is this yours
or mine?" femur for steering wheel.
there is, of course, a piece of the animal
even within the replica. you can't teach meat
how to move without a mother.
i had a bicep once. i had a toy truck
full of glass eyes. a device
for cracking open the arms of crustaceans.
lobsters living forever as knights do.
just armor & a will to keep asking
"whose tongue am i made for?"
we could have built anything you know?
instead we made the choir & the knuckle.
tossed skulls into the bay. stumbled headless
in the bright dark evening as
blue crabs cut our hair in the surface.