a surprise rain soaks our shins before we can scurry into our subterranean shelter.
footsteps stomp above the bare brick arch as we lucky few huddle with damp socks and dry spirits.
inside, a light glows and hidden screams escape from some forgotten primal place.
beneath the unseeing feet of the lives above, sings a giant of a man. a giant spirit trapped in a bean frame, fragile and frantic.
with sleepless gypsy eyes and tempestuous waves bursting from his head, he sweats sea salt into his words and song….
we step outside of our bunker and into a swirl of gulled wind and grey waves that break and beat the beach beneath our feet. endlessly.
he, z, leads with howling strides, and we, willingly, eagerly, follow…
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