Shrouded in a
drizzle of mist
the
ocean (reclining) insists
SUMMERTIME
BLUES
(ain’t
no cure, etc)
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
.
Boiling
ocean poppies
on
the black & blonde sand
Your errant passion, my
autographed copy
of the sky over El
Segundo
~
a light seduction ~
I
could swim thru all that you spill
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
.
pitching a fit
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
.
“Everything is water
if you look long enough”
(Robert Creeley)
