I should be paddling out now
into the tropic blue glitter
instead of dancing across Ocean Street
in a pair of broken huaraches
I’ve got a ticket to the sleaziest night imaginable
& it’s got your name on it
I will dive into the darkness of your eyes
& never come back
Meanwhile meet me in the alley behind the taqueria
I’ll be carrying a tire iron
& a surf manual translated into church Latin
We all have our dirty little secrets
& even if we don’t we can always pick up a few
along the way
