1824 c/o Stacey Teague

swim down underneath clouds
wearing appropriate water
your poems as good as rocks
in your pocket

through the imaginary harbour
like an abscess in the gum
false cartography
the slack diary opens

breathing blue
you say hello to the cliff’s edge
find your marrow
check the calm place

the good water
the dog water
the kicking water

keep digging in rain
feeling hollowed
arms in the darkness
into the undulating rock

the gliding ocean
the evening ocean
the inside ocean

something is shut off to you
breath runs out
dive down into air
there is no sound

breast stroke in the present
you wear your special dress
on the surface a storm