clam in wet sand sinks in the drink of bubbles
to breathe the froth doubles as ocean waves
crash and prey upon a world of troubles-
from oceans ear to the mouth of the bay
gulls shrug off the cold, feel the flinging fad
to swoop into a loop below the waters wealth
a fish or two be had-as stealth the brazen
fisherman is he, seagull, natural born hunter
of the sea.
too extreme the feelings keen in the long wind of my genes, I
cannot stay in the positive pole,
ever drifting through the downward spiral-a staircase to escape
obedience, to a God Eagle totem
taking me under His wing, to
punish rebuke to my chagrin-I need
lucrative employment of all the missiles bibles to teach the beauty is
hope not cruelty in the impoverished
hearts and minds of all who suffer at one time or another-I offer
peace, a piece of pie, pie in the sky when we die, the happy hunting
grounds, the
wilder-beast and the buffalo, the elk deer moose, and I the golden
goose partake being parched with a thirst-
water H2O the Universal Solvent,
hydrates the driest eye, replenishes the tears I cry, chooses to live
or die, in a fixation forever awed by
the power of an ocean cooling the coastline blowing kisses to the
fishes with wind on a mission to call the gull and the dove land in
the sand of a most remote love, anchor the rancor of boats in your
harbor-most anointed quest, regard life so hard to have but few
regrets, and the sun isn’t done
in skies as blue as it gets.