out on the chilly winds  & fog—the breakers breaking the waves waving goodbye & the whales wailing under the railings of the golden alley bridge—a world wide -retro-coop, super group—a pox o’yr swindle yr bag of used tools—the prez is leering from a Lear jet—and cargo boats with soggy bottoms & pastel hills & primary containers jelly fish out into the harbor—pass water the gate & motivate—east to Hong Kong—Singapore—Peking don’t forget to duck—weighed down with boxcar size quantities of gargle, paddle balls looking for a racket, kittens prowl the poop deck, the first mate he got drunk, climbed a mast to masticate, wrote a letter to the magistrate, bought a parcel of promised land by the acre–by the time I got to the taste of ashes–songs composed on ouija boards, the ouija bored itself—the ships cutting through the scar & sky blue empress of the package & always lick your stamps before dropping them in the box–Mr Lucky Reels, the Hambone Sisters grimace, Skye Page gathers trinkets, soldiers on glass elevators throw stones at Billy Boy who drools like a crooner.