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