Disintegration ------- The waves of time lap at your cranial isle carving creases into grey matter carrying away the detritus of yesteryear On some foreign shore, this loose material collects forming sandy beaches membered by rememberings passed by passersby Someday you will pass by yourself, after passing over still the same self you've known but now in so many pieces you might as well be everything In the meantime, reach out and pick up this poem: a message in a bottle, scribbled whence it came And why did it end like that?