b'Nonsensical FragmentsLoops. Disconnected,Our life entrenched in drudgery.To the water front, main street and back again,Over and over I trudge.When did you last do something for the first time?When was it, a real something?I couldnt recall.I found myself at the beach.On hard sand built up in dunes,I wrestled on my togs Keeping my eye toward the mosaic of biting blues.One hundred percent numbAnd yet, present.The soft waves engulfedAs the cold emboldened,Into the path of the sun I dove or splashed or flailed.I emerged and horses ran pastAffected not by the flow and ebb of tideNor the billowing breeze, Freedom, in its glory, along the shore.Until I returned To the main street, the waterfront,Connectivity, in its modesty, within the store,Tied to it the obscenities of life before,Those mistakes and unbridled attachmentsAll of the nonsensicalfragments.Daniel Madden12'