No Matter What

A bus ticket to the end of the world
(Swamp City exit corner of Ocean Street &
Wipeout Ave) the circuitous route
“ever runneth in to the self-same spot”
& so the self-devouring serpent
that in my dream was more like a self-
devouring hula hoop
wholeness, totality or infinity
rolling downhill past the Medicine Man’s
Drive-Thru & the woman in the iron bikini
who knew things nobody else wanted to know
she said Deception is good for the soul
which I took to mean the prototype
& to lay it down then inside a nice
little 2/4 Mexican-German oom-pah beat
w/sand blowing across the concrete
anticipates a rail of silence
& the broken valves of the sea