In the beginning the
names called
In the wilderness
the words
Salt Marsh, secret cranking sound of ocean saline and lift water from ground. Bird mounds and mammal input, chemical processes from friendly eternity puddle. No forgetting aching grasses to imagine. Plesiosaurs somewhere underneath as type of atypical brood, while tides.
We haven't been clear about beginning to end. End shapes up in no shape and in no time. Ladder not to the moon but towards. Venus brighter than Jupiter without trying. Trying would occult now, for the then already seen.
Meanwhile Votive flabbergasted in the sense that in the morning all becomes revealed as flat town. People make hurdles with strenuous tidal sluice, an assumption of power dictated by inconsequence. Friendly slime mold congregate in implication of season for season growing now and then. Staying neutral as a masked gastropod inkling going on about land qua land, home. Breathe with gills if you can. Once a lobster always a lobster. Readying inklings for more. Now read this. The day of half a day, and more against the light and line. Stare at a trace of stain in a people book for all time or most of it. Current report from the history of haze regales simple grass. Without traction you have place, like when water gathers. The salt marsh gathered.
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