Image by Adrian Campfield from Pixabay

It’s some kind of bird, I start pondering. someone tell me what savage bird goes yonder, is it a golden pheasant? its feathers are embellished with pricks and strokes. There’s even a bird on the bird but I just can’t seem to figure out what kind of a bird it is. Is it a scarlet ibis? it has ruby dust on its feathers and its strolling rather long for its short stature. Could it be a snowy owl, a herald of the times to come? I’m getting chills in December, wait let me catch a breath and think on what kind of bird this is because you see I’m not particularly fond of all birds, all that flutter - are not flawless. The little gulls need to grow up, the bluejays need to lighten up, the flycatchers need catching and the blue bird of paradise needs to be engulfed in a hellish fire.

But this....this bird is out-and-out hypnotic, its plumage is adorned with sonnets, poems of a sailor lost at sea. stories about the ocean and its enormous waves, and you see the thing is that these look an awful lot like the waves I’ve been longing to get lost in, waves that’ll take me someplace I don’t know. Hopefully, wash up on some forbidden shore along with this strange bird. Do birds smoke weed, I know this one does because it looks like it’ll peck the joint off my hands any second. Anyways, I’m smoking evening joints by the beach at someplace I don’t know. shit, there’s sand on my joint. I must say that this particular bird is particularly beguiling for I am just wide agape at the ocean in its eyes, are the waves crashing, or is this bird grieving from some archaic torment? is it a hummingbird, seems tiny but dare I go nearer lest I madden her, restless and restful all at once, such a graceful sight.

The mighty ocean draws near my slipper-less feet to foam up as white as the glaciers afar but they always recede, they come and go as they please, but the wet muddy sand persists. It’s still more or less of the same sand that has been on this beach for millennia, time is a lost concept up on this beach.

Now I know why I can’t figure out what kind of bird you are, it’s because you’re not a bird at all, are you? Since the pheasants, ibis’, owls, and hummingbirds all drown when the waves come crashing. wait a fucking minute, are you the grains of sand on this beach? it’ll be swell if you are. I guess I do like a little sand on my joints.

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