Friday, January 29, 2010

Beach sand erosion from recent storms

A taste of the evening glass
the reflection like a faded tattoo
depending on a hinge of breath
silver & turquoise as woven strands of seawater
wheels in the heart
direct from Zion         burning rubber
recalling not the rain, not the Pope
but perhaps a moist halo bending above the waves

Is there something I should say?

plus or minus a clear liquid reggae beaten into sand
so many times before & after

alone in my sneakers I suppose it’s always been like this
or what’s the use as hula hoops consecrate alohas
among the slow swaying kelp in cathedral groves

in effect deeper bajo de las olas
than your sunken treasure might imply