Nanis

I can imagine a reasonable
Interlocutor agreeing with me.
I position this

                              Short poem at the end
Of a quire because it subtly echoes
The preceding text, but also because
Here it was, at hand,

                                 Fitting the space.
Either interpretation works for me.
Any interpretation works for me.

Feel free to read these

                              Lines as all betweens.

I am forever beside a campfire
Under the water, under the given,
Burning whatever

                         Drifts down to my world.
Time's my manuscript

                                   My compilation.
Mine are grizzly words

                                  Heaped up together
Below the levels of vision, of fact.
I am the monster solely to myself.

I am the being of what I consume
And the breathable

                                 Magic of islands
Covered by rising

                               Tides of forgiveness.
Laugh at my solemn, lugubrious tone
As much as you like.

           Beached waves bring my growl.