Sand is lots of tiny rocks

We are so accomplished, us
a student and a carpenter…

open the fridge & get a red bull
let it burn itself out
I got Budweiser and Guinness,
a beer for each noise in the background.
Roll that beautiful bean footage, mon frer
roll me a steak roll me a boat
let’s go fishing, clean ’em ourselves
half a day is $40

cigars in the car, brownies
hot the way down
but contra spent ‘fore we’re back
we drink Teacher’s and what do we learn?
what does the surf tell us?
what the sand?
run on it barefoot, pre-concrete
it gives it takes
roll the tides, friend
we can’t push ’em back,
we won’t try

in that way the sea is magic;

we aren’t chuck norris
a pillow here is only sand and water
stop to look at what is left:
what way have the shells been charmed?
and by whom?


It’s very mel tormé out tonight.
Warmer than it should be this time of year
I said I wish we could see the stars
you said I can’t even say that
we’re as far south as mexico but
it’s almost arkansas:
the locals say Port A

We’ll drink hot lolitas tonight
cayenne at the margins
and watch pelicans dive
for food we’ll never see.


We made art, didn’t we?
Something, where, if I died tomorrow—

no one remembers
what your office was like,
unless really cluttered,
or really clean.

Drink up, boy,
they’ll come over that ridge
within the hour, and then—
shit, you’ve been through basic
what am I talking about?
The whiskey gives you courage.
But neither of us there,
out there in the sand
where booze is not allowed
where we’d be fighting
fighting for the right to


Let’s go back to the beach.
It’s warmer there, or feels it anyway.
There’s moisture in the air.
See that hotel?
We’ll walk until even with it.
How many P-funks left?
How many of the others?
You’re in a mood for a splash?
Water’s that way.
He’s in town for one night only, folks.

You’ve called me Joe how many times?
The sprint, sure it was my idea,
but it made me nauseous.
Funny, no spins until morning.
But didn’t our asses get up early?
Newton said “inertia.”
I said I was a wishin and a hurtin.
Things in motion stay in motion,
where we were for awhile,
waves with sight of no shore,
no offshore platforms
just petrels and plankton.

Most people don’t know
that at night this sand glows,
sparking underfoot
like curads opened in the dark.
The beach is a roadway.
Vehicle laws apply.
People just drive on it
Alcohol not illegal
just can’t have glass
hence the budweiser the guinness,
hence the nalgene.

There’s people in that van up there.
It’s a guy, he has no shirt on.
Maybe we’ll see people doing it.
The woman has stepped outside now.
All she has on is a very long shirt.
Either they just did it or they’re about to.
Did you hear that?
It sounded like someone yelling.
A woman’s voice against the surf.
Pretend I didn’t hear what sounded like help.
The guy could have a gun, after all.
We now eclipse the sea
and she yells again!
It sounded like “heeeeeeeellp”
though the tone wasn’ right.
If she were in trouble she’d be running,
a good twenty feet from the van.
You say she was calling
to someone we didn’t see.


When done we flick them in the sea.
An offering. Let her finish and bury it.
Or she can spit it back if
afraid of insects.
The butts we bury. Sure to come back.
I play like a boxer.
I backpedal, dance around, dance like
a plover sting like a ray.
Circle you like an opponent.

It comes back like dream-fragments
but it’s facts, I think.
I could run now, I really could.
I find a pace that’s as slow as a walk,
running in place, except moving.
Ten minutes is enough.


It is pretty low tide, we think.
We cover once-wet sand.
The tide returns forlorn,
grabbing us ankle-deep.
On a long walk back,
we get deeper and deeper in.
At times up to mid-calf or even to knee.
We’ve got our pants rolled up.
Now you are ready to jazzercise

I say Run without touching any white.
We do.
You just stepped in some!
No, no, that’s not the point:
we don’t monitor each other.
The idea
is the best workout possible.
There is our hotel, our light, our entrance.
Our shoes.
A couple blocks back on quiet streets
to holiday express.
You step on a cocklebur
before we finish the teacher’s
and sit in the hot tub, waiting.

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