Monday, August 20, 2018

A Date with Gravity

The final option is always the first to go
& I'm bouncing quarters off the sidewalk
among the sacred pyramids & taco stands
while playing the part of the eternal
red-headed stepchild
carrying a leatherbound volume of broken concrete
returning to the one true original premise
from which there is no escape

Once you felt just that pure I know but time
chips away at your carbon footprint & your dreams
are nothing more than a landing strip for seagulls
exhausted from hauling the rusted sky down the coast
day after day these many years while you keep score

We all want to say goodbye I said
& like a wine-stained tombstone cutback
w/a kamikaze crossstep
you tread the needle's spine
before dropping into a full metal bikini slide
dragging your knuckles in the sand

Something no one will ever remember
or forgive

Saturday, August 11, 2018

M'sieur Tarzan Buys a Record Player

Wrecked on telepathic feedback
behind the wheel of an awkward silence
leaving skid marks on the needle
whenever you drift past your
favorite tune

but bent listening to
those jungle drums
& sawed-off guitars

a real toe-tapper that
lit up the hit parade
ten thousand years ago

& the consolation prize...
wind in the eucalyptus & other voices
versus the exhaust note of a '56 Chevy
rattling the sunset windows of
los kahunas

Wednesday, August 1, 2018

Keep the Change

A quick glance back
                    over your shoulder
& out
              to sea
                            whatever's there to be seen

It seems unlikely given the dark
primer gray fog that's
parked on the beach

& locked in on the fucking persistent dial tone
of Eternity
                    royal palms murmur
                             Sappho whispering to Homer
                                      what being means

it means
waking up at dawn
w/your sunglasses on