he carved
little dragonflies
into his thigh
with rusty fishhooks
while the wind sang
in coffee cans
by the rocky shore

she danced
on one foot
while vipers
hissed and struck at her
when the swelling
got too bad
she switched feet

they sell drugs
out of metal lunchboxes
to the men
with no eyes
in fancy business suits
by the wharf
every third thursday

there was an angel
with dirty sticky wings
who ate cotton candy
and told fortunes
under the pier
for loose change
and the occasional button

it sniffed
up and down the beach
searching
for buried hypodermic needles
left behind
by diabetic satyrs
and mailmen

i just watch them all
from my folding chair
in the tall weeds
under a parasol
the color
of faded dollar bills
and polka dotted daydreams