The Water Market
A market full of three hundred taps
Calligraphy sign assigned to each
From every one Adam, his ale laps
Across the street from Cocoa beach
I’d have walked right by you see
But a stranger pointed to a sign
When he heard a thirsty me
Panting down the hot shoreline
“Walk this way”, an arrow pointed
To a hidden place to slake
Rapacious thirst my anointed
Angel revealed for mercy’s sake
Each brass nozzle clean water splashed
Each soft and sweet or hard and tinny
To one unused, I quickly dashed
Taste of blood, a bit, irony
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