WHAT CONSTITUTES A PROPER PLANET
by Ashley Capps
I decided to drive to the beach, where I sat in the sand and dug a large hole.
There was a tiny translucent crab with eyes like my mother
and such a specific inner life I tossed it fast back into the tide.
The sop I scooped out made a kind of wall which slid in on itself if my pace slackened.
I had to dig quicker. I dug frantic. Kids appeared with plastic buckets, little shovels—
I wanted to ask them not to collapse it, but they hung back, a cautious tribe.
Till at last, one poked me with a stick, and asked why I was doing that.
And I said, "To keep the ocean out." And then they all joined in.