Tuesday, March 1, 2016

Read This Poem & Win a New Surfboard

I spent the dark before dawn dealing with a
case of industrial-strength paranoia that wasn't mine
"Leave it alone"  "Don't fuck with it"  Etc.
approximating the speed dreams of the tortoise

The small print contradicted all claims thereby
reenacting the Fall of Saigon on the beach at Topanga
w/sunlight igniting the haze that hung like a fine silk
veil between you & a water-logged version of Eternity

as if to say "I'm always here even when I'm not" & the sand
drifts across the pavement as deliberate as the
phrasing of an unspoken prayer only half-remembered
Incense, candles & cheap tequila left as offerings at

a makeshift shrine to one of the lesser gods
& though I no longer subscribe to that mythology
I receive subliminal updates on a regular basis