'Corpus', by Aubrey W

Forget to be hushed, to hush oneself
pass hash on the rooftop terrace
of some clown motel or hotel-on-sea
stay paranoid til the first utterance of blue humid dawn
streetcleaners in violent manner mean no harm
roar by and keep time with scraps of wind pealed off the Gulf
flat and lifeless and deathly quiet itself, no wavesound
too grand to have so little to say
Atlantic wind merely waveguided into America
that's alright, many of us are denied a voice
and the task of passing along is a noble one
that's jazz after all
that's you too

Almost forget which way's land up here
cos it seems every way's screamin now
the wind roars it's what it does
machines roar back it's what they do
up the shore the highway hums its low arterial thriss
for it's what it does too

Dark abound, mostly, with scattered flashes
of tourist lamplight near the water
the buildings around here are not very tall
and there are not very many of them

Somewhere the ocean suffers
a black million miles away