i want to approach strangers & ask,
"where are you putting your grief?"
does anyone else feel as urgent as i do?
if i had a patch of dirt i would dig & dig
until i was deep in marrow. then, i would
fill that hole with water. kill an angel
to christen the pool. construct a diving board
hanging over the lip. jagged tooth. my reflection,
a spattered bird. i crave something real to dangle above.
each day, the ocean asks more & more questions.
when you be an animal again? why don't you weep?
how will you survive? i have no answers.