I Had A Feeling I Had Gone

you are a quail

and i shall sail
beyond your nails
for you see
the sea
is not unknown to me
and i shall feed
you turnip seed
'til you are freed
from tiny wings
which bring
solitude beneath the wind which sings
in featherless slings
and anyway
we'll go today eh,
for the sky it brays and sways
with clouds
whose shrouds
condemn me gone come may
i'll miss you very much that day
amy
my little quailish friend
just lend
me time to bend
my way home
through this squally foam
O the sea it smells funny tonight
yet you
i have you
in my sight
and don't miss me because your life is a long time, trees shall blossom, some will die, someone somewhere will develop another terrible weapon for massacring humans and we, we shall remain oblivious to this and shall not fret, for THOUGH there are greater concerns out there, they are not ours - don't you see - the oceans like some great inpenetrable implacable unknowable elemental mind will push on, eating and subsuming the petty earth, as they have done billions of years previous to our tiny jerks and will do still billions of years hence, because those bottomless things recognise something we cannot, and think, that soft and pungent billowing as the tide breaks everywhere about the outcropping, you would immerse yourself in that, but it is filled with myriad tiny and exceedingly sharp rocks i hear the wind it is gathering itself it is filled with wisdom

and a harsh, solemn rage