Was it your name in the hum
of the buggy? Frank said
he'd meet us here,
where the horsewhite ships
had already begun
to drift away, pale ladies waving
from their crystal lips: bye
bye big balloon, so long
this stretch of beach where
the mute stalks stand like object
lessons in correlation, you also
an also ran, up to your neck in sand, Nobody
sees but one set of prints & the Lord
quoth I never carried shit--
we walk single file to conceal our numbers.
The cities of alpha & omega
is a horseshoe here, but almost
doesn't seem to count when
fool's gold was all we ever
mined from under this clump
of rubble. Mine,
all mine, the protocol droid
drones for the six millionth
short circuit. When we
break bread, it's freeze-
dried ice cream, Tang crystals
in recycled urea.
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