Aug 07

cape cod

who carries the little bottles?
fills them with sand and glass,
corks them tenderly, risking
cuts or bruises for tourist-
shop pleasure and free wifi?

I learned last week
that all my life what I've called
beach plum- bobbly
fruit green to red- is in fact
beach rosehip.
I've never stayed long enough
for it to purple 
or be made tea. 

everything here- everything
that is surface level want-
seems so devid of pleasure 
and paper thoughts and purell
save masked beach tourist giftshops
never gaudy only grim
in the prescense of wanting
seagulls with harp string 
legs and withering chests.

I coud give my memories 
away, scoop my brain like
hospital pudding,
and still I will be
caught between fisherman,
hawaiian shirt, & whatever 
the sea has asked me to be
on any given sunday,
in any given lighthouse,
with any given dream
or pair of flipflops.