I swim out past the waves
and bob till my fingers turn yellow
looking east and then west
it never gets old
being salted and dusty
heavy roses in the wind
the thing is I am very untied now
an un-caught drift, no container
biking up hill
past the business that sells glass
how beautiful to specialize in something
so clear and sharp
basketball cigarettes rat slap
the slick green table
Molly the bartender
I get to my car as the clock strikes 10
I sit with the door open
one foot on the road
looking up at the bell tower
M says
the good news is people have been
trying to figure out what to do when summer ends
since at least as long as I’ve been around
like maybe it doesn’t this time
