Amber huskfluted with gold,fruit on the sandmarked with a rich grain, treasurespilled near the shrub-pinesto bleach on the boulders: your stalk has caught rootamong wet pebblesand drift flung by the seaand grated shellsand split conch-shells...
Are you alive?I touch you.You quiver like a sea-fish.I cover you with my net.What are you—banded one?
Featured in Episode 1 of “I Hate Poetry”.