on an unknown beach

amanda palmer

i'm a pale intruder on an unknown beach

my back to the water

my feet in the sand. finding no recognition as each sign of life invades the precision of this aging land. an abandoned flipper in a world of storms. there's a man on the shoreline with a white parakeet trying to make his bird go home. with increasing continuity endless space gazes 'round the periphery not disheartened

wearing it's most inexpressible face. my instinct is double as the waves roll by

but my vision is halved and the foam in the green as the insects talk to the blazing sky. wax in the ear

stitch in the side

wolves are feast for the blind

under and over

the why and the wherefore;

easy to sit back with time

driving discussions like cranes through the car park setting them all in a line. all interceding

not yet proceeding misleading doubts in the mind. i'm a pale intruder on an unknown beach

my back to the water

my feet in the sand. needing no recognition as each sign of life invades the precision of this aging land.