Saturday, June 20, 2009

Here's another poem (a bit awkward how this one too cites hard-drugs):

Basking on
The lip of a
Shell twinkling at
a Bora-Bora tideline

Where it is not
A crime to drink
At noon and
Feel guiltless

I closely
The coral-
Colored nacre

Cool to my calves;
Before I go float
Ensconced by

A luxurious little raft
I should smoke
A bowl topped with coke;
Maybe then I'll

Turn around and see
A whale
Breaching; a
Shadow oh shit;

It's just a nurse shark:
Harmless and big--
I'm cold.

Warm sand
Stuck between my toes
To sunbathe on my deck

Beneath which Tropical
Fish can be seen;
Maybe I should tease 'em:
Sprinkle weed

Instead of bread
So they do that
Cute nipping at
The surface

A-shimmer through
The spaces
Between planks which
Smell good:

High-grade wood
And salt which
It's true
Can't compare

To Fleur de Sel
Which they put
On all the tables
For all meals

Next to three
Little pepper
Grinding out

Savor from
Three countries' pepper;
The chickens
These here parts

Look fine but
Not fabulous to eat;
Thank God for
The farm which

Supplies the kitchen
Which is thankfully
Far enough away to feel no pity
Admiring the range.

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