under the skies a dragon falls
on a black telephone with
twenty-two buttons for names.
several other buttons, too.
I sit where I can be distracted.
sip Orangina. warm September.
Salem Frenchfries grillcheese
salmonsteak down TWENTY
POUNDS now. we trek more.
I watch him take his towel off.
we’re swimming Swampscott
Beach. someone ask us
how happy our salty locks
are memoir o’ my heart.
all the leaves yet green.
spindrift blows my pages
open. writing upside down.
mud surgery. someone
else. having upside down
shotgun, I guess? to write
upside down in the mud
this setting is too familiar.
probably kids discussing
where Matt Damon put his
butt on a bench. a red
ant across my broom.
