Poem 514
The thing about the flow is there’s a lot of things carried along in it, good and bad …
The Flow
it's all a question of getting into it isn't it of taking a watery view of things joining the magic green circles seasonal menstrual this is a beachy country so everyone knows about the sand river dragging the breakers sideways with nothing to mark you how you drift and come out again fifty yards down from your towel be as laid back as a corpse bend like a tree and balance the rain against the sun pray against gale force winds against disease or ringbarking woodland creatures proclaim nature beautiful and make bread out of it ignore the terror of being free the forest fires that skin back the ground started by lightning in a natural matchbox of a summer go with the flow until it turns into steam