a lessening of zen

there fell in
to the sea
one yester morning
a moon unkempt
and readily discarded

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neo-taoism corrupted

and my breath is fading, falling into crusty sand flats
where little devourers lie in wait, come hungry to the feast,
wearing their salacious smirks as they make their rows in

audience

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waiting

i watched a laddy dying, laughing as the gulls began their mourning
wail, wrapped my toes in sea salt as the tide formed its hungry prowl,
and waited for the angels

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