Sediments of Santa Monica
A left margin watches the sea floor approach It takes 30 million years It is the first lover More saints for Augustine's mother A girl in red shorts shakes Kafka's The Trial free of some sand A left margin watches the watcher from Dover After the twentieth century these cliffs Looked like ribbons on braids or dreads A dream had come right over With a sort of severe leakage Ah love let us be true to one another Went down to the ferris wheel God's Rolodex There were neon spikes around everyone Like the Virgin's spikes Old punk's mohawk Evidence of inner fire Rode throwing words off Red current Light swearing Ah love The century Had become a little drippy at the end We're still growing but the stitches hurt Let us be True to one another for the world Easy on the myths now Make it up Sleep well
From Cascadia by Brenda Hillman. Copyright © 2001 by Brenda Hillman. Reprinted with permission of Wesleyan University Press.