Spring Break Vii - Ocean Flowers

The former blond model pouts and primps
Swinging her hips
Down the splashing catwalk of shoreline
Sand caving to her imagined heels

Wheeling to her awaiting Israeli mogul
Her shoulders set so far back
It’s as if she’s walking backwards

Puts herself square
Between
Him
And another thin woman
Launches a laugh and offers salted peaches

Wraps her skinny arm around
The other woman’s string bikini of waist
Holds her tight
Upright

You don’t have to go away
She seems to be signaling

And a young Salvadoran girl
Is curled up at the side of the tide
Beached to that surf-beaten sandpaper
Only a towel of brown skin beneath her

People stepping over her
Looking
Shrugging
Walking on

She is homeless of any self-absorption
No cell phone bag or jewelry

An unclaimed seashell

Another time
Her brown round body
Was plopped down wet and sticky
To mounds of dry hot sand

Hands stretched above her head
Handcuffed to the sun

And when she finally stirred and stood
She squeezed her boobs like sponges
And the grains of sand crumbled from her body
Like Cinderella’s gown
Shaken loose and fallen to her ankles.

The crashing waves
Humiliate a man with a beach ball belly
Rolls him to shore
Legs tossed over his head

And also, though much more kindly,
Scoots a little boy at his butt
Back to his worried mother
Who’s holding a towel
Yelling from shore at arm’s length

Her worst fear.
I mean her husband.

Muslim women are wrapped in black
From toe to throat
As they swim and laugh in the ocean

And that’s ok too

For I smile at one beauty
As she emerges
And pulls uncomfortably
At her taut and soaked nylon dressing

She sees me watching her
And since it was not for the usual reasons

Her lips part
As she unleashes a smile across her face
Un-shy.

Yes, we’re friends.

How would these subjects describe me
If they were also voyeur poets?

They would not
I am certain of that

Being invisible
And old
Fashioned
Pen in hand
Reading a novel.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

Poem

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