O the cities here below!
The men with a thousand
arms! the stanchions of
their upward gaze! the
coral of their poetry! the
sea dragons tenderized, meat
for fleshy fish——
Navark, navark, the fishes
of the Sea speak Breton——
wash as soft as people’s
dreams——We got peoples
in & out the shore, they call
it shore, sea call it
pish rip plosh——The
5 billion years since
earth we saw substantial
chan——Chinese are
the waves——the woods
are dreaming

No human words bespeak
the token sorrow older
than old this wave
becrashing smarts the
sand with plosh
of twirléd sandy
thought——Ah change
the world? Ah set
the fee? Are rope the
angels in all the sea?
Ah ropery otter
barnacle’d be——
Ah cave, Ah crosh!
A feathery sea

Breathe our iodine, filthy yr drink,
faint at feet wet, drop
yr profile move it in the sea,
float weeded watery Adonais
longs for thee——& Shelley three,
that’s three——burn in salt
with slow most change——
We’ve had no crack at eternity
in a billion years of trying——
one grain of sand possesses
3 thousand worlds of glee——
not to mention me——
Ah sea