Not for Nothing

Whatever’s lost, strictly from silence
& a weary fuck you salute tapping the jugular
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L   o   o   k       A   w   a   y
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The rocking hips, the dark, the
long lost field of poppies in thumbprint neon
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COORDINATES
On the left bicep―a wave inside a circle
                              Inside left forearm―“The Poems”
              Inside right forearm―a nautical star
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All of it gone & this one as well
never so gently
the other side of the beach
not even the charm of a doubt
w/midnight wings of albatross
befeathering the heavy coastal haze