Global Voices Radio Spoken Word Lab American Sentences
American Sentences
Organic Poetry
Doe Bay I

Doe Bay I


Sun is mirror and you and I, we are

the ocean sounds lapping onto a beach of small

stones, or the concave shells that pierce

skin. Why’s the tide still in?!?

Whys spill out of mouths gone

numb, or learn to ignore creaky ligaments

w/ a fastidious sense of direction

and a task of manifestation. Imagine

we conjure chrysanthemum pollen and

lavender oils tickle when applied just

right, or better yet, bring the seagulls

and the orchards. Bring your face, reddened by wine.




The international gesture for madrone tree

looks like the sun found its way out

through the last day of summer to

restructure the earth, make it a planet

where we soak bones and soak again.

Drown the babies before they know

pain, or gulp Fat Tire or Anchor Steam,

a lesson in sailing the strait in the

winter ice (an old soul’s new wrinkle).

September is a month of huddling and

forgetting. All this from the seaside

spot where I was once pictured w/ little



3:42P – 9.21.08

Doe Bay, Orcas Island




Forty-seven tomorrow, but

today and on Sundays, when the air

feels like one long last French kiss to

summer never come, instead the dragonflies

seek out the urge to make this wrinkle

called: “oxigized”, which is just another

word for: more testimony for her joie de vivre

more than madrones or the sea or

the way we make each other come so

hard, the way the rocks know where to

land, where eagles circle above and birds

skim the hair and nature from the

surface, lick our chlorinated skin





Your words make the tears come, wrap

around my black backpack – a place aphids

should avoid. Someone left dogshit on

the bluff, and going over folds we’ve

seen before. The water brings its parade of

detritus, of nasty things a dog might eat,

or just a bald head under a black

stocking cap. So we postcard a Sunday

afternoon, we are scrubbed clean and

spit-shined, by waves, as only they can

this time of early chill and late blooms, of

pumpkins, and islands carved out of one wild




4:09P – 9.21.08

Doe Bay

Orcas Island

w/ Meredith A. Sedlachek