Sunday, September 03, 2017

the beach was 
like a refrigerator door  
 that wouldn't shut 
    we sank into our places 
 in the sand   
the sun 
was blistering 
   the laptops frozen
    we called for lattes 
 but no one heard
down the way 
had a radio
playing Maybelline 
   over and over 
     we built a fort out of driftwood 
                                       and Pringles
  but the philistines 
kept coming