Sit cutting into
the sand with a razor blade
the sand slits open
and what’s sharp loses its edge.
The sun is hot this time of the year
the ant-lions guard their hollows
and a few ants always have to give their blood
for the sake of those on guard.
The dream of a plane
crashing from a great height into the sand
The razor blade no longer serves its purpose
but the sand continues to do so.
And anyone building a tower here
must answer for his structure;
when the sea comes
the sand also flows outwards
and embarks on one of its unfathomable
which is older: the sea or the sand
becomes a metaphysical question.
The razor blade is highly dangerous
and used up
still there in the sand
the ant-lions continue about their business
the dream of the plane returns.