sweet Christmas come and gone
along the beach its mutilated
curves a second truth indeed
it was almost romantic
a gift I’d never given
muddled here at Mildred’s
and lacking the zest of
some recounted scenes
these last few days
of peace and intermittent
sun of structures sound
and wizened
shit this guy over here
has lit a cigarette
I never gave to you
this story
the one I got around a tree
where a few windchimes and a
Big Sur bird that hadn’t lost
its sugar
each packet pecked it
flew it up said tree
and to its startled mother
a little bit of Christmas
well this coffee stinks
but the last few days here
except for the icy drive
were wonderful
I think I’m going to boycott Mildred’s
no more life
no more worry
