Wave Robber

The clean arcing curl held there
for a brief eternity before crashing
into itself just as you might throw
glass houses at stones
to reason with a force of nature

I’ll have a drugstore on the rocks
all lit up in cool fluorescent flames
like the samurai of forgiveness
or the angel with
              nine pound plum blossom wings
                              & an iron halo
staggering across Ocean Street
in the rain

the aztec radio’s tuned to a tragic
misinterpretation of Baudelaire
& there’s nowhere I’d rather be than
halfway there