when we travel on a

gravel road as occurs with

delightful regularity

bumpety bumpety bump

and brown dust

collects in the rim of the wheel

in the groove that runs around the perimeter

of the rim

or somewhere there

and when we stop to fill up-

i'm taken back to when i ran my small

finger inside that groove to collect a dust so fine

it was baby powder, but porous, thinner, lighter

and ripe with soily flavour

and i would put my finger in my mouth and

taste it mixing deliciously with my spit

and i would swallow the earth

i do it still

with the whole of the world in my mouth and on my tongue

and the tastes of all the wilds i want to swallow and keep inside me-

machu pichu, alaska, greece,

the yukon and oregon, mexico, wild ireland, wet and wanton

a friend brought a small stone from

the grand canyon - how could it be light as air-

and he put it in my mouth and i closed my eyes

i tasted the world

right

down

to

the

very

bottom

bottom

bottom

of

the

ocean

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