After failed attempts to temper the course set upon by man in nature, following violent earthquakes & floods, the great city sank beneath the ocean waves in a single day & night of misfortune.
— P. Aristonson, History of the Great Atlantic Coastal Creep
Apollo. Florida sunset.
Tropics. Sea oats lulled by
the wind. Mustard sand lee, oxeye’s
humid droop. Ocean winds offer watercress,
spores. Eighty degrees. Water hymn—
“Mariner II”—a sure-fire hit, a rhyme
without an author. Of baseball—
Marlins rode the ‘roids parade,
but ghosts will find their closets. Finer
surf, dark clay, innocence—easily drowned.
Mi Ami Lesz *
A pall of Fleur eau de Sound Set.
Trope pics. Sea-ode lullaby.
Twinned mist ardently hawks an aisle
of human rope. Ashen wand of a waitress
pours our tea, decries (what?) her hymen
martyred to a surfer. Hit the rye,
mewed—touted art whore of Basel.
Marilyn’s ode to thyroids. Pray debut
goes well. Pines her corset. Finds
herself darkly in a sunny seaside town.