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Thursday, September 11, 2003

Air Brush 

Sheer cliffs restrain this anguished land’s retreat
into the sea. Approach the edge—don’t shake—
and seek the rocks below, exposed in wakes
of waves, a flashing glimpse of ocean beat.

You see those nests down there, in the deep cracks?
They’re guarding azure gates, so have no doubts—
it’s safe. Now curl your toes... don’t slip, lean out
and feel the rushing updraft hold you back.

It’s free, no charge, the ticket for this ride
on air blown fresh. Don’t mind my gentle push,
just close your eyes - the wind’s full whistling rush
with surround sound like Dolby for your glide.

Flow past unreachable avian crèches -
if flying were your skill you might alight,
find downy chicks that envy diving flight
while eating soft regurgitated flesh.

On down, graze greenish lichen Pollock slapped
on granite canvas layered edges dried
white guano crusty sodium chloride
and kelp. Open your eyes, now look: impact

wet slap into the gagging tumbled scree
completes the painting’s strokes, for you and me.

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