Supermarket Iceberg


icebergs the size
of small countries
roar into silence,
breaking out to sea.

Tectonic plates
bump and grind
in mad burlesque
on a molten lava’d core,

and I know
there’s a joy in the jarring,
in the disintegration
and haphazard forcing of life.
For as I stand in the supermarket
I have holiness in the tears,
and the searing rawness
and ask, here alone,
what me is being created anew?

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