Golf of Mexico
All we did was walk a few minutes of bare feet to the tiny beach branch library & by the time we returned to your colorful clown lair with windows down to air out the night’s memoriac weed we found your sergeant pepper apple core stolen in vanishment--
A Mirrormar man pricked himself to death with safety pins & sewing needles inside his brown town home last night, PPPD report.
--Striped socks were unfolded & strewn about whitehouse condominium where two young beatlemaniac loverbirds played butterfly hands & zoned out to rustic space tunes in the circus car’s last night at the silver table in which they made red & yellow photographs on the outside & inside & right side & left side of the automobile soon to be towed to be gutted & junked to be sunburned & stonelike unlike the flesh of the earthen souls inside who sat in the warm & smoky carpet box with a smile on hand & a tune to the taste of cosmic soviet man looking down on that stealthy CD thief that malice cowboy pothead (knave of stainless steel resting on his shoulders) in the blind-cut faint yellow light coming from a bowl of waxy melted mac ‘n’ cheese glowing so cheddarly like a conscience-warming angel sent from bowling smoker’s heaven recalling snapshots of 2000’s yore on digital point-&-shoot toy guns that work for real so that people who run up to a parking spot & klept a beach boys selection off the top of an artist’s rainbowic creation act tough & feel safe shirtless under the warm quilt of South Florida’s coastal early autumn night air--
The motive is suspected to be an overwhelming sense of guilt, commonly derived from the dissatisfaction that a life of petty crime provides.
--She chatted with & witnessed the Dark Blues patrolling while he hid in the too-hot weak-spray shower trying to reduce his high he was out of his mind with regret moreso than she whose property was being wrung from her handbasket every hour of the month that Oh My Lord month of woes & worry for an aspiring mountain musician with rent & rain soon due so gloom grew inside the fragile glass chambers of her big red heart pumping formerly fast & now pendulumlike as she lays in bed covered to the chin with flowers & lamplight left on by someone who says ‘here’s hoping that the medication doesn’t further tangle her state which is already so difficult to untie’ so she got given pills to dissolve the biggest knots recommended to her by someone at her job a place which she was now stranded from as the phone bubble pops & he realizes their intangible reach is rapidly shrinking so that he has to dial a bank & a food store & a junkyard & a luddite mother or two merely to let momma know that we might need to stick together more than we used to simply for her temporary ease because when one lover loses something the other brings theirs to the table for sharing & one looks at the other with eyes full of tears & gold shining burning cheeks & they both embrace leaning over the gun on the table meeting in the middle & sharing an Augustine Thanksgiving dinner—
Like double trouble over bridged waters, this fog hangs dark & heavy over eyelids of the young.
--Thus caveman sleep must be a marvelous thing when there is no other kind of rest no electromagnetic eyelid-opening brain-lightening genie-guising money-farming color-enticing internet-plugging blinking beacon on a rocket burning through the exotic asteroid belt with its many meteorite ruby studs & saddlelighted lonely women & less space than before to breathe so hey! call for help we need glasses of sand to see the sun so we make roke (rum & coke) in bloodstained spaghetti bowls & laugh about the stroke of bad luck which has shaken his black cat fur all over her one full-moon morn out on the rapture-dawning shore with mushrooms & metals coalescing into the thing she so longs for those stolen organic phone numbers & pizza place photos that now have to be remembered solamente by heart & holden hand.