“Waking From A Nap On The Beach”

Sounds like big
rashers of bacon frying.
I look up from where I’m lying
expecting to see stripes

red and white. My eyes drop shut,
stunned by the sun.
Now the foam is flame, the long
troughs charcoal, but

still it chuckles and sizzles, it
burns and burns, it never gets done.
The sea is that-
FAT.

3/17/95