horatio

Nelson, I heard today

the swelling rush of

ocean in my pipes &

had to spit the water out

for salt.

 

& at the beach (you’re

oiled like a gladiator &

tan as California in

striped swimming trunks)

 

you lie on a towel all

yellow & scarlet against

the shimmering pale sand

lean & long as a coastline

& beside you Bud Light

tower tumbling down

mischievous & you’re

pulling at the tides with

half-drunk hands

 

You and the moon, Horatio,

& the pipes beneath my

sink gurgle fit to

burst & have not yet

been looked at by

the plumber.

 

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/47taae/a_fat_old_broad_on_the_bowery/d0hnpxd

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/47ueqe/when_maryam_rose_from_the_page/d0hnl1c