Beach Front Property

Someone’s praying for you at the bottom
of a swimming pool waiting for the light to change
like times you remember that tender “fuck you” at
midnight swept up in landslide blossoms & silver mist
The radiator sand & mussel shells w/greenstar sea vines
cellophane paper beer can plastic litter plumes
crashing in your own rusted shadow the static aura
of what passes for consciousness around here
w/yr hands as yet unburied & yr eyes explained by
telephone poles & fluorescent sunset smog
intimidated by the seacolored haze that rattles in a
mile-long stretch of unincorporated sky