The Concrete is Epic

The swell is icummen in

That first feather of light
my confessional in rusty blue-
pink haze & the blur of recognition
cold as I make my way

with a nod to the North Star
(aka Polaris, or the Pole Star (a
monkey’s head the emblem of the
Mayan god of the pole star

& at the damp insistence that
stretches the pavement out to the beach
a step defines entrance even as it fades
so near in every direction

who you are or pretend to be
abandoned to a lesser vanity since the
phrasing of these relics will transform
each forgotten detail reclaimed

or perforated as your own bloodstained
silhouette & I can’t take you any farther than
the rain riding in across the water
bouncing quarters off the drop edge

of your heart