Self-Portrait as Wave
Feeling limited, I succumb to surge,
disperse, reassemble, return
in the calming swirl. Nothing
resembles me. I relinquish this piece,
retain that, and reinforced,
reside in the whorl, swollen,
winnowed to a point and capped,
roar and rumble, shredded,
whole yet apart, a solitary
fist crashing through another
watery torso in response, in
resonance, again, again.
“Self-Portrait as Wave” was first published in the inaugural issue of Kissing Dynamite. Many thanks to editor Christine Taylor for taking this piece.
O at the Edges 
Good perspective on existence (for humans, probably for all creatures) of iterative dispersing/reassembling … and in certain moments self becoming a fist (I’d like to think divinely guided in its thrusts)
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There have been many times when I’ve felt pulled apart and reassembled, not always for the better. I hope those days are in the past.
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