I am being squeezed to my last breadth reaching

For the shimmer at the other side of sea perched on an

Old ash tree. The borers employed by the coat march out in a single

File, prototypes of success, heads small and sharp and stupid.

The Bravery of Jason is an illusion, he cannot control his boat as the

Wrapped warped waves push him forwards as scales rotating in

Opposite directions

Over the shoulder are clear skies and simple shapes

Cherry dip cones of the neighborhood menace, it all

Looks fuzzy in hindsight as one will get stuck in that sunset

Forever but after forever it turns to night.

Awakened by a crash on the stern rushed upstairs in full

Bronze with spears being cast into the waves.

The sailor in the back takes off his eyeglasses so he

Doesn't have to pay attention for a little while.