Happening upon the Exploding Sand Sculpture Competition on TV
Found: the proper distance
�Handprints the wind wiped away
�Small cone piles where a bird claw raked the tension loose
�Like crumbs
�
From a swath of sand, preimagined
�History’s sputter, or granules of myth, rough in places
�Rough
�And detailed
�
Color of tawn and if it rains, leather
�Color of itself core to surface
�Color of reuse
�A seablue horizon floats its way up
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Cyclops, Einstein, Planet of the Apes, Indiana Jones
�The lone woman Betsy Ross sews on Gallileo’s stars
�Map of narrative
�Chunks, clumps, wads, pieces, specks
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Eons of drafts of sand / earth of sand / sky of sand
�Deeded sand
�Air / sand
�A smithereen lands at my feet
�
Stand back when the shoulder rounds
�The corner rounds
�Too close if what you saw before / you saw
�Meant anything
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