Kelp

 Kelp 

Doubtweed roots into the seams of my sidewalk square.

Concrete breaking off into a sea of kelp and pitch-tar,

snapped from the human chocolate bar once meant

for a hot-mouthed clergy. Cacao, overly sweet, repentant.

I’m off to boil backwards until I’m cold in the street water.

Once searing, now steeled. Aware, awake, gleaming.