Little Dume

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While I’m ten fingers deep

in this ashtray of an existence,

he’s good at living.

This infuriates me:

driving off to Little Dume

to swim in the ocean by himself.

It’s the smartest thing to be —

kind to yourself. I want to learn

from a man like that — how to drown

the phantom selves

creeping up like sea foam —

how to thrust

spectacularly

into the singular

body      so the ocean fears me.