the body is a boat; I am waves swaying against
it. Whenever it anchors somewhere, I smash
it loose, or smash it to piecies. If i get
lazy and cold, flames come from the ocean and
sorround me. I laugh inside them like gold
purifying itself. A certain melody makes
the snake put his head down on a line in
the dirt. Here is my head, brother: What
next! Weary of form, I come into qualities.
Each says, “I am a blue-green sea. Dive
into me!” I am Alexander on the outer most
extension of empire, turning all my armies
in toward the meaning of armies, Shams.