I saw a boat quite recently in alaska
that remind me of proverbial meringues
balancing on soda that’s already primed
printed whilst stirring fizzy drinks may
result in half baked eggs.
I’m poaching truths found hiding in a
forfeited hat with nowhere to sail
and stranded within the tidal times.
as tragectory stalls on it’s limbs so far
into the survey searching fjord dual cubes