Dear Transport

										At the end 
of the pier, 	it is I	waving, 	signaling, 
my hand an		 adjectival		swish			("a jik 'tl v&l)
among the pre-		historic  clouds	&
	  concrete fish		  &		(some of us
  must wave
at what
  cant't be seen)
Strange to be
    to breate the janglechimeice	murals
   shoes wave full
   frozen dock cleats
   		  neck's goose periscope
   		  
Oh, sail, can you be
		  the intelligence of lake
who will tell you: a fortune cookie in the snow: (Go Ahead With Confidence)
full level moon
	the borders of 		these things
a thread of lightning
		   a cork on the pier
		   a condom on the pier
snow barratry
when I'm gone