CLIMBING BABEL

for mws

Everything escapes me here.

Is it time moving or

is it only me or is it neither,

whether cloud or clear,

there is water in the air.

Once I espoused old cabins

in rural gardens

green, and a small town,

too full of itself

an anorexic

oroboros town

in interior forest.

And now, here,

I aspire to that penthouse

and shining tower

(like a ladder)

and cling to that part

of the ship

that is last to go under

in this liquefied delta

at the wide wet mouth

of the coming quake.

-Timothy Shay

10.XI.10