May 30

In a squeen of ocean
off the coast of Mozambique
an amoeba who has split

and swam off in all directions
(that half of the first half)
bobs still, just off the shelf.

This source of all life, small,
remember the red ocean,
the ice, the starless sky.

Uncut, we come and go fast
mediocre children of the great
beasts who do not last.

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