what should the boy on the beach do as he realizes

that the ocean is endless & the sand is infinite &

the only thing temporal & finite is he / should he

make his grave in the froth of the wave's crest or

continue his timebreathing rush of momentary sandcastles

in the looming anticipation of the next wave's

seasalt siege of hoisted time at the guillotine of entropy //

the boy wants to believe himself to be a sardine

in a shoal, a sparrow in a stormflock, a grain of sand

or a drop of water / but the boy only reached the beach

because he stopped believing in anything, belonging

to anything // unable to do anything else he takes sand

in one hand & water in the other & puts them together

to make clay that he shapes in his own image // the image

asks, what should the image on the beach do as it realizes

that the ocean is endless & the sand is infinite &

the only thing temporal & finite is it / seaboyman says:

make your own sandcastles & maybe sing about it

~Ajay
21/1/2021