Thinking about treading water for what seems like a very long time, offshore, about 4 hours of so, where the sharks pour themselves into white molds. They swim inside of the white molds and around me with them. Looking like the gummy plastic dentists have been known to stick in my mouth. In my mouth because I grind my teeth at night. And the sharks are afloat, which is kind of an affront to me, working as hard as I am, and I hate them. They are containers just as I am a container of at least 10 years worth of diseases. I cannot remember them all, nor where and when I went to fix them. I'm calling ahead and it's no good. I'm spitting at the sharks and into their dense black eyes and that's no use. Shark, you fucking bastard. I lie on you and rub myself on your pickley back. I lie again and again on your white back, and hate you and scratch at my legs at night. I make this tent with my sheets on your back, and lie there and bang at the bugs on your back.
