Indonesian Dock Sucking Supreme
Paul Haines, Carla Bley
January February March
Or July
A moth’s eyes here can
Paralyze you to the thighs
Sea sprays the beach
Bends palms in desire
Turn their hearts to oil
Underwater
There’s nothing much budging
There’s the barnacle crowd
Positing one order
On another
Awaiting what never comes
But only returns
Even the end
Minding in the ocean
Better a lot
Of what’s wrong
Than a little
Of what’s right
Better a lot
Of what’s wrong
Than a little
Of what’s right
What you get
What there is
To be gotten
Indonesian dock sucking supreme