Velocity is absolute the
various & the abbreviated
shattering like church windows
just before it rains
the surf like a slow train strumming
diesel strings bent across the spine
as if there was a chance for escape but that’s
another tape measure shot on a scale of one to ten
the way sunlight slaps the wet sand
I want to see it turn the same color as Ensenada
tied to a kicthen chair beneath a
single bare low-watt
lightbulb
that has a happy face painted on it
& you’re eaten up by shadows so it’s hard to tell if
you’re there at all
humming softly to yourself
combing out your eyes
& getting all emotional about the crease in your bourbon
Strange how easy it is & yet you still manage to sweat it out
I mean fold up like the corner of a velvet painting
in a cheap motel