we try
to unfetter ourselves
like foliage
before they osculate
with the earth
sand trickles from our shins
nude boys
slouch spread on the sand
a genus trying to be noticed
the sun in each set of eyes
waves closing in
the distinct noise of unknown
having to go in the rear of the shrub
someone
there are no less than a ladder to be tramped down
even more to get back up
most people in no way
actually move toward here
would rather envisage it
talk about it
at small surge
we skedaddle
to the waves
taking part in like young boys
yelling
as the natural cold water
clasps at penises
back on the shore
the crude balmy sand
ties
the feet
think gracefully
No comments:
Post a Comment