a fool imagines where he's never lived

a fool imagines where he’s never lived

john martonesamuddo / ocean

2015

hut —from OE hydan, “to hide”

for gerry loose

sea cliffmorning

a clutchof huts

the first thin smoke

stovepipe chimneys

morning stripping

your bed in heav’n

a clean morningbird shadowssweep my floor

those raccoonsin your hut just a dream

turtle’s facein that dream was you

hut doorwide open —

who’s dreaming now

footpath timepiece

first lightorb

weaver prism

empty whiteboat on shore oars gone home

sea-slashedthat great rock inside you too

a gull sails above watching someone walking

abandoneda hut for everything abandoned

he sets a crackedpetunia potout front

one big gourd

where helives

wild grape morning glorycucumber snake gourd hold hishut in place

wall boards vertical & weathered

nevera sure hand

threshold rebuilt

his first mistake

table & bed

most of his hut

a bowl bread to break

words fail(a hut)

an orange crate shelter for his quan am

hut windowtall as you little man

the spectrumyes you put in a broken window