Len says there’s a sea of garbage
in the central Pacific.
Seal pups
on the beaches there
play with tampon applicators,
swallow them,
are blocked up
and then die.

Just above us
on the beach
is a dead sea bird.
I’ll say it’s a gull because
it’s the only sea bird
I know by name.
It’s probably
as soft as it looks,

but I won’t touch it.
Death needs
to be kept
at arm’s length,
just beyond
my fingertips.
It needs to stay out there,
far away from here.

There’s no need for me to know what killed that bird.
I’ll walk the beach, pick up smooth stones,
flip the flat ones
over the surface of the water
two, three, maybe five times
until they sink at last
to safety on the bottom,
where I can imagine

they’ll rest on clean sand,
no plastic there
among the scallops
and the horseshoe crabs
that will live forever on the bottom
of the perfect harbor
that shines and ripples today
with the slight breeze that heralds an approaching storm,

glad we made it to the island
ahead of the wind and the rain
and that we may sleep through it tonight
and get up tomorrow and read poems
to smiling faces on the bluff above
the beach, the gull, the stones,
the sand full of white shards
I will not speak of again.

All people can be divided into two groups:
those who divide people into two groups,
and those who do not.

We call the people who divide people into two groups
"them," and we call those who do not
"us."  Sometimes, we call "them" "the Others."

Let us say some things about the Others:
they are grown fat with their unjust ways.  They
hate us.  They are the source of the Smell — ha,

they are overripe with it.  If you were to crack open
the "O" at the beginning of the word "Others," it would be
as though a durian had been split in a closet

and left to rot.  In fact, the Others
are the splitters of all fruit.  All carcasses
are split by them too.  We

are the stitchers of that which is split.  All people, then, may be split
into two groups: the splitters of things, and those
who guard that which can be split.  We call the Splitters

the others, the guardians are called "us." The splitters
are known for their cunning, their conspiracies, their incoherent
justice.  If you were to straighten out the "S" at the beginning

of the word "Splitters," you see that it is a snake’s spine
and they have been holding the serpent close to their breasts
since the beginning of days.  Venom is their milk, and we

are their silent milkmaids.  We are the ones who carry
the venom to their tables.   It sloshes onto us and we are burned
daily.  All people, in fact, may be divided into two groups:

those who are burned, and those who are burning us,
or those who are poisoned and those who live on poison, or those who
worship division and those who pray for shielding and healing.

All people can be divided into two groups.
These groups are called "us" and "the Others."
It is as lamentable as It is observable, and it can be proven as follows:

all people can be divided into two groups —
those who divide people into two groups,
and the dead.