293/365

as a kid i believed in quicksand.
the terrifying notion that the earth
could swallow us whole kept me up at night.  
i imagined an alternate world beneath
the colloid of fine granular material;
or maybe there was silence, a sort of
timeless web of disenchantment beneath.

there was quicksand in my visions
of adventure, it was there in the places
i saw myself uncovering,
discovering, disappearing into:
at one with the yąnomamö or the bambuti.

places beyond space and time.
a (re)connection to true self-
misunderstood in the halls of davidson
middle school or the gap. it was the suction
of the earth into some unnameable space
that would help define what it meant
to be indigenous.

apparently it’s impossible
for quicksand to swallow
humans into the earth.

my people are not in a distant jungle
waiting for my return. they are you
dear reader, hunkered down in the dull glow
of a screen, perhaps gently stirred within
clicking (a) like into the void.

maybe there is quicksand after all.
it’s here in this cyber void,
sucking us all into its idle maw