DRUNKEN SLEEP ON THE BEACH

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POMES & STUFF

 

Nothing hits the spot

like a drunken sleep on the beach

and immediately

I am seized upon

with apparitions of Rimbaud

suddenly the seer

of strange phantasmagoric visions.

 

(amazingly, phantasmagoric

is an actual word in Webster’s)

 

the not so pristine sand

of the Long Island Sound

circa Bridgeport, CT

& my feelings toward the state

are becoming more gentle

awaiting solstice sunrise

to scald my bare back.

 

It’ll be awhile

in coming back

to bad news and no news

 

Feeling more and more alarmed

over recent bad luck streak

as the bottom would appear

to be falling out

from right under my feet.

 

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allets's picture

Phantasmagoria

Where you go to be phantasmagorical. right? :D good one slc