Article: Sea body sonnets. (poem)

When it comes to it, the body's a beach. Wipe it down then. Oysters, clams (split, gull-picked, barren-clean): clack them all back into the sea. A gull - also the body - returns, returns, to the same spot, sliding on wind (the body). Gull beast drops shell beast on sand, upwings it, and drops it, upwings it and drops it, till, crack, it gets the food that will slither down its throat. Picks out bodies that resemble our bodies. Gull-like, clam-like things, can't we fathom our source? Fathom depths of the body-filled sea, where all is black save where we dream it green? A dream of sun filtering to bottom: ...

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