Tonight, after your medicines
capsize you, after you sink
into the churning depths of sleep,
I am going to walk down
to the shore of the sea,
down past the white sand dunes,
down past sandspur and panic
grass, down to the dark wet.
Whatever chemical dreams
you dream, they will comfort you
long enough for me to fall
on my knees, put my head
against the soaking sand
and crash headlong into the surf.
I'm going to open my mouth
as wide as it will go,
and let the ocean rush in.
I'll drink deep, swallow gallons
and gallons of sea and shells
and galleons rotting under the waves.
All the humpbacked whales
and shark-stuck suckerfi