Little Red-Fox Dog

Green tea steaming

on the pier where my dress

sticks to my knees with sweat,

Our casual conversation about

Pelicans

falls in and out with the waves but

your eyes betray where your mind

drifts to these evenings

Even through the aviators.

Your baritone

makes the

Styrofoam in my hand

vibrate, and there are

little purple flowers in the dunes

Now it's almost time to go.

My uterus

is so full of dead tissue

like broken shells.

My mother

projects her emotions

through speaking her pet's mind,

Aloud

Geri is sick of the beach

and has had her fill, now

...an old dog's last dying wish.

Everything is dying.

The gulf is screaming at the horizon

and the Oil

streaming down my cheeks

is like the prime black blood

slithering in my sandy veins.

Watch the tires spin at

short departure and burn along

the pavement,

Imagine all those rocks crushed beneath

the weight.

...Like a family torn apart by

Selfishness

staring out the window and

salty everything.

Tangling,choking,drowning

choking

choking

in waves crippled by,

gravid with seaweed

Red like the fresh blood

the sea bleeds before

it turns black, shrivels and

croaks.

(Toads in the road, I slept while you drove home and killed them.

One by one. Ashes, ashes,

sand.)

In my dreams I keep choking.

Teasing myself along the thin-edged

razor of endlessness.

The Vietnamese family digs holes

for small colored clams,

minding steadfast the task at hand

A family of go-getters

Simple, mindless and all

so genuine/Easily pleased that

it appeases me.

I suppose we are all collectors,

of something.

He does not count these moments

like helmetless

motorcycle deaths,

but I know he remembers

the exact shade of the water.