A journey to the bottom of the sea.

I knew you then, chop, somewhat blue
that would pick a tide
silt me through regions
back to you.
I knew you then, chop, somewhat blue
that would pick tides
silt me through regions
until I came
to within an inch of the doorsill.
Don’t waste my time
tapping the door glass
or barking on command.
Ahhh the cars sigh in apathy
Encased in blue
forever and ever.
The tides burn out I don’t know how to let it go
i never lost
even here
where the ocean comes apart.
Again
words line my heart
sailing from point to point:
black, blue,
blue, black
one time, one rush, trapped
in some place.
No, it comes down, empty blue,
crushed,
flattened;
two bubbles pop
in the backs of words
that rock or curve
in such movements
that will permit
one idea to flow—ah!—
to other, shocked or stabbed
by a needle of water
that blackens further down.
Not yet but soon.

To coast in lightwater seems to me
the point of existence
I once said when the—
Not yet.
Hold!
Drain away: land goes, the people you know, distant as the boat
that hauls away with its crew of one:
alone,
each word painted on the ocean bed:
here here here.
On void’s back carved
I will never die.

Into the water
that swells around your eyelids
navy.
Down and down and down
into
where your mind dwelled
all along.

Blue
fades to the bathypelagic zone.
That pressure
pushes downward:
a bottle endeavor
wrapped and clamped,
each unit of water
could snap you.
The cold years
the cold lost years
shut your eyes.

Ocean tightens and, tightening, drifts
into the abyss
could you—
could—
ould.
The peels one by one:
heart
head
body
soul
crushed in a bubble
shattering dissolves.

Snow drifts to the bottom of the ocean,
it falls on the plains and ridges,
on the rivers and deserts,
so far as the wrecks, blooming in rust
before the ocean eats their metal.
Seamyths crushed,
into the black
you’ve drifted.
For suns you
ran on the earth
and multiplied
in Joy
but the ocean’s
reign slips all
into

The trench,
slits
held together
by the molten
action of plates
that enclose
sarcophagus water.

I once swam
with other animals of my kith.
God
the pressure crushed me then
and I looked up
pinned and crushed
as if I were held in chains.
Night, ocean, sky, world above,
bearing down on my head that could—
Stop.

The moon reigns above.
Her light shimmers on the waves.
I can hear her music.
The moon’s rainbows swim
to the ocean bed.

I dwell here
on beds of steel,
drag about
or hang
or wait and switch blinks
or count the pressure,
falling
fallen
hoped
and hoping

One day the tides will erase or someone could dive this low, as I once did, to the ocean bed. If anyone dreams it comes apart here. Into each blank eye I put this message:

In the deep blue
sea
I wait and wait

Found, alighten, awake, melt away and open the sky.

Often.