I say something that makes you laugh,

a crack about angry yoga people and cigarettes,


and you snap your head back into the wall,

which makes you laugh harder


but which hurts like a smack across the face,

I can tell.


With our overmilked coffees we stumble down the boards,

elbows brushing, hands unsure where to go;


we bite our tongues

as the holy rollers sing and sway to Jesus,


the irony of the gay man dancing among them

not lost on you and I,


just a couple of sinners,

holding on, letting go, searching for the right path


like the line of surfers bobbing softly,

patiently treading the 5 o’clock sea,


wishing their timing had been better

as the waves fade to foam the color of piss


and the orange summer sky

turns suddenly gray.

gray sea


One thought on “A Poem: JULY AFTERNOON

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