(I Think I’m) Surfing Japanese

Prophecy like pure chance
resulted in Medusa & the two-way mirror
Delphic shadows on the boardwalk
& the cigarette I didn’t smoke on the pier that night

Her hair like dark water crashing against the jetty
drenched in corrugated steel

& with dripping steps up the ruined concrete stairway
back to the overlook parking lot
a heel of sidewalk groaning with albatrossian hang-time
to hold abeyance with sunset hardware
& a grip of dreamless blonde sand

All the baptismal vestments
& drugstore sunglasses required to perform ablutions
pouring water from a plastic gallon jug over my head
before peeling off the black neoprene & throwing on
t-shirt, shorts, sneakers, sweatshirt against the chill
rips & blades of cold air knifing the damp

Who did it matter what incumbent gloom attends
with plumes of mist tuning E-strings in the eucalyptus

Dusty murmur of ragged palm trees attending

& whoever they were they knew my name