This seaweed tequila takes me back, I said,
I can taste the winter swell.
Sea-stone green. Dreamsicle
orange.
A silver blanket of ocean mist.
The Garden of Earthly Delights like a bottomless
cup of coffee
looking for the pulse of Punta Baja.
I’d say keep your sunglasses on & lose the accent.
Tincture of opium is recommended, she said,
a Coleridge-in-Malta situation no doubt. Back
in the carbon era
she would have been named
Muriel Nitrate & the long paddle out a
true measure of desire.
