The storm’s upon me, I will bow and submit.
I will sit on the rocks by the shore.
I will watch the waves come over me.

I will launch from the rocks,
slide under the waves,
and drown.

In the morning you’ll find a body like mine
with seaweed in his hair and long lines
of green stretched behind him like contrails.

I won’t be there. I’ll be long gone.
Where am I headed?
To places where the body is unwanted.

The world is vast and
open if you travel
unencumbered.

MMMMMmmmm…imperial.

Can you smell what the King is cooking? Smells like meat to me.