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Every time I close my eyes: I see the Lifeboat.
It's moving away in slow circles. 
It's dying.
The crew is desperately trying to avert a spreading disaster.
I'm the killer.
When I opened the hatchery door yesterday: I thought I could smell spring.
Maybe all is not lost.
And I've realized that I love plants and I hate mirrors. 
Deeply.
Sometimes I feel so terribly abstract: that I have to stick my hand in my overalls
and rub a little of the slimy scent between my fingers -
then I'm like after making love:
or at night in the harbor among the drying nets:
or at home in the bathroom - while my drunk wife sits with a narrow smile on the toilet: I pee whimsically in the sink.