Shawn Kemp Carwash

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.