Pseudo Ensenada

Had me a sky gray Chevy once
w/a backstory that would've made
Coleridge weep

That was back when I used to listen to the 
waves crash in the margins of
The Book of Songs
returning my dreams to their default settings
always careful not to spook the horses

but no more than a tablespoon
as directed
& like Ali Baba bending over backwards
on Walking Crucifixion Day
I wore my hat execution style
because some things never change