Mussel ledges in the swirl
As pony necks ride to shore
And sluices fill with juices that are
Pulled through arches back
Epiphany of moon spun melodies
That rush to greet each other in
Swollen crests of foam
The stone rolls down
Like kneaded bread
To the edges of the coast
From breezy promontories
Where the eye is filled with sea
The crash of luminescence
Splashing the silver glow of stone
Continues with its aching sheen to the sun’s
Elusive home
Brides and bathing beauties come
To stand in front of lenses
And hold their fronds and flowers
As if they are as ancient as these
Slowly yielding stones
Or at least this dying turret spit
Built to hold a moment
Forever to be captured
In its wake
By those who’d make their vicious mark
With blue and white umbrellas
To set perfection in perfected order
For the vague tastes of man
White flashes like a war zone
Before the ever-decaying phallus
Our correspondents claim conglomerate rocks
To hold the couples' love in endless
Effervescence
The seagulls sneer their squeals at me
As I scribble in their light
They know there is no harmony
On my side
