Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Gallons of kool-aid spilling into the sea

There was no place else to go
so I parked it in the spot reserved for those
who have a history of violence
& waited as the tide rushed in
across the sand

No music yet the palm trees on
Beach Street seem to be
gearing up for a rendition of
“Hooray for Hollywood”
buried in a slice of cold ocean water
bite down                     release
burnt kelp, blue agave, morning glory

I know, I read it backwards
on hands & knees     
beneath the display window
A suntan neatly folded over the
balcony of my heart

Silver wrists & fog
drifting in on the wings of Chuang Tzu’s butterfly
as they affect a tropical storm
forming in the Pacific
south of Baja
                                    & the way shadows
fall against her cheek at sundown
as I excavate a smile

5:31 p.m. & the sun is like a turquoise ring
on a finger of fog