Fly, Pelican, Fly

Fly, Pelican, Fly


What’s this all about? Let’s do a list. Die
is last. Dawn is first. Underneath it all, the sea tries
to say the sea is all there really is. Fly,
pelican, fly.
It’s not enough to love. Not even
to die is enough. Shouldn’t we somehow learn to live
with what sinks us? Here’s what works in the end: Spain,
maybe. Flamenco. Friends at my side. Lorca, still alive.

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