Time

The eyes
from the skull

flicker

the light
from the lamp.

The flame is now.

Foul Ball

In elementary school
music class,

I was handed
the wooden block.

In my audition
for the talent show

I tucked my knees
into a pair of sweats

and danced like wild
to "People are Strange,"

continuos footless pirouettes
until my knees began to bleed.

I had to perform in front of
the special ed class.

The crowd went wild
my teacher did not.

She just pressed stop
on the tape player

when I was done
and said, "Ok, Jeff. Thanks."

I never did get to be in the talent show.

Preparing for the Next Wave

That day marked the end
of our epic summer.

We roasted hotdogs
over the fire

and drank
bloody marys.

I had a Panama Jack tan.

We couldn't afford wetsuits
going to college and all.

That's the main reason
we turned our backs

to the surf.

A cold north-west wind
came in that afternoon

and we rode it all the way home,
never looking back.

Three years have passed
since then and I graduate in May.

I'm buying a wetsuit.

August 8th

We were so stoked
that mid-summer

afternoon,

when the crop duster
swooped down

and increased our buzz.

I was compelled
to take off all my cloths,

so I did.

And leaped off the deck
like one of the dogs

disturbing

the cloud of bluegill below.

Star

Estrella
era
una
perrita.

She
looked
like a
chupacabra.

Tigre

Tigre

the rooftop dog

was lofty,


physically,

mentally

and

SPIRITUALLY!

At Sea

Night sneaks in like a manatee,
a large cryptic body beneath an

infinite pin-pricked sky.

I slide the anthracite
jacket slowly over my shoulders

and drift with the tide.

Dead fish wash up onto the shore,
lidless eyes like constellations.

I think I see my pegasus.