H e a r t S o n s & H e a r t D a u g h t e r s of A l l e n G i n s b e r g

N a p a l m H e a l t h S p a : R e p o r t 2 0 1 4 : A r c h i v e s E d i t i o n

BOB RIXON

Pine Barrens

Water, like rock, moves slowly

below the ground, time

comes to drink from this well

while dwarf trees wait for fire

& the rain steeps a bitter tea

Sand swells where a melting ice age

made a memory of a beach,

a highway flows over it now

carrying us to graveyards

built with far less care

A consciousness of salt grass

blindly raised by wind & waves

convenes above the highest tide,

living on the blade of dying,

in a home beyond all certainty.