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Turtle + Snail pt. I: A Trip To The Beach
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Extended Poetry We baste upon the scene
We’re pasted upon the beach
Crammed with people to our necks
Crammed with insignificance
We’re unnoticed as the fleas upon their hair
As the three-ring circus
Basting upon the scene
Searching for the sun’s trapdoor
Whispering in our language
Seeking the same pretty scent
As we baste upon the scene
“Pt II: The Shifting Graveyard”
Every dog needs a place
To bury his bones
To assure the life of what he loves
May it be another six feet under
Under our feet, under our song
His treasures sit and wait
Unnoticed as the fleas upon his hair
Unnoticed as the inside of a seashell
Only we can see
Turtles and snails
Only know what’s underneath the soil
What’s pinned between our syllables
As we’re crammed to our necks
To the bones under the dirt
Crammed with insignificance
As we sit on the beach, on the scene
All we know is who we are
In an endless crowd of nobodies
It’s tough to see the forest from the trees
Tough to see the inside of a seashell
Turtle and snail, me and you
As pure as a newborn’s little nose
As the first words we ever said
