In Coast Spring Items by Hanz Olson Net some entire savage trampling - tan words in song provide their company, and I ' m n o w s u r v i v i n g nestled pairs fallen aground, a windy mountain's good intentions, sweetly crumpled walks over tangled in long lawns. Care of stuff lunches over spring's dream change dead-leaf rhymes. "Here," I said, "I ' m d o i n g w e l l to murmur out this morning's short-shake time hearts. Stop-socket snow heats no words and still you cry. Experiencing intrusion notes to play houses snapped, heap of rubbish, collections kept intact, plates ripped out in gritty clarity. Pinned and braced shelving stacked, scraps and shards survived by climbing, whose body has not been found. Sands are homeless and railing at its edge, as the sea pulls away from the coast.