Chipped shell on the dash,
Bought from a gift shop
In Costa Rica
By somebody else,
Never having been
To Costa Rica
Yourself. It belonged
To an old species
Never left ocean
Not in a hundred,
Not in five hundred
Million years or more.
It’s a pretty shell,
Even with that crack
And no life in it.
After all those years,
Those generations,
It’s information,
Doesn’t need feeding,
Which means that it can
Go anywhere now.
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