12 July 2010


This was an attempt at a mood more than any real narrative.

Though I suppose there is a story here.

There's always a story.

Swindle 7/12

You take off the purple shirt when the sun goes down
Placing the iron in the cupboard while it still glows – you’re
            using the mister on us – the fan’s
going at gale speed and I’m putting on my leather

Lacing up the back – taught and crushing ribs
            The purple on the sand looks like water in moonlight
Puddle of t-shirt – spoonful of sun
There’s that song about it weighing a ton – Superman
            couldn’t pick it up

I did think it was time to get on the boat
The tourists will all turn their heads when he says September
They take pictures with their Sonys – save ones where breasts
look pendulous – bronzed

You leave your clothes in on the shore – denim breadcrumb
I will pick them up and wash them – wait for you to grow legs
Swim like that fish in that movie for me
like some koi in a pond in Santa Fe
They’re just expensive goldfish – just enlarged morsels

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