A man walks into a bar carrying an octopus

Stranded beneath twisted palm trees
sipping at the pale sunlight that
              tunnels thru a thin layer of smog
to light up roses & pelicans
                              wrecked on adrenalin & perfume
knowing the indulgences
lifting the cloud cover
                              several tons of damp
                                              not to mention sun tan lotion
excluding the fish-bone tuning fork
halo effect
                              ROOMS OF OPEN SKY
& the ripple trail in Latin
landing on water
              as one could summon bare puddles
collapsing into their own reflections
like the relics of a failure you could never surrender
to traffic rituals
                              or fevered lips
stung by salt spray lifted from the marathon tide
              steeped in heavy breathing I thought
like a Japanese wrist
                              caressed by a silver blade