Spilling the Last Glass of Water in California

I'll keep the hazy beachbreak
folded in my fiberglass swamp journal
along with the bruise to prove it
tapped out on the long distance
mardis gras storm surge
or spun on the finger of sky blue nada
before that raincloud jack-knifes into the sea
just to demo the altitude of desire
when karma's a revolving door
in a metallic green '68 Malibu convertible
parked outside Taqueria Las Palmas
locked down in the amber glow
falling from a tearstained mirror
shattered on the pavement of your heart