4.14.2013

wreck beach

please tell me when does the balance swing
in favor of the strollers the beach combers
seeking for disposal: polymer chains
much longer than their own? this is the farthest
west they can come over land. they and
their yellow lab mastiff bernards
they and the unwashed other theys
that exclaim this their church
with penises flapping towards setting sun and bonfires
started too early with aid of wine worth
less than its bottles. talk mixes cosmic delight with
transitfarehike defeatist bitchings
a struggle unconscious against the imposed order
forever unnatural to their wiring. where else
can they go than here
to deliver carnal musings 
atop and within this ravaged ecotone.

styrofoam crumbles as cupcakes with too little fat
nestled between cedar stumps that knew life 
ten generations before this urbanity
barkless rootless stumps nearly as dense
as the tumbled basalt its base. but i know not the number
of Earth Day branded cleanups needed to tip the
sacred gestalt back to a wilderness palette.
less feet equal better trails but too few steal access
that too too many need these days.
these here are the limits.
around the bend
past the graffiti decommissioned
lighthouse you can see the city:
the anchor and the stressor
the electric warmth and the choked air
home and beautiful and forever foreign.

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