Siesta Key

I sat and drank the sunset sea,
buttered flour rolling roiled around me.

Fern tracking gulls squinted, amazed,
plucking briars from their worm pink toes,
while bottle cap beetles sifted for pennies,
cigarette butts sprouting like volcanic cones
from the pebbly promontory.

I sat and drank the sunset sea,
it hissed like a snake just struck with a stick.

Under a silver tree lolled a brass spider,
frantically dreaming of clouds entering its belly,
transformed and spun into diamonds and diaphanies.

Sunset found a wine soaked sea,
and I was lashed to a spare tire
to prevent my untimely surfeit.

Swimming, somnambulating, snoring, spent;
I exhausted the combinatorics of
salt and serum.


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