These Seaside Verses
three brothers fishing
how marvelous
i turn to a friend
who is still on the bottom
of a slow line
a pathetic bubble
drunk
they pulled him out
with a pastry hook
something said
maya tradition
fashioned for
bringing back fishing
more no husband
some home
he had pasty look in humidity
look white
like coral bleached
canned vegetable colors
foil turquoise hands
creamy, humid
cupid’s thighs
rag-cloth mouth
left open
to veil
soft face
So recently vigil
Virgil’s
dark ascent
to heaven
hecho
en mono mas
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