stuff from the beach.

there is a time for a child to Be
exactly that. Each should know silent Snow
and every child should touch the salty Sea
each should have curiosity Ceaselessly
walk, run on the largest world for them to See
each night be at peace in their heart Below

the sea has it’s pearls
my neighborhood has it’s blisters
there are stories of the sea
disappearing
like

my neighbors were sweating and blistering, on 5th Avenue
Sprawled in lawn furniture, their noses collecting dew;
I am collecting too. my dehydration head-ache grew
While I watched my neighbor’s sores bust through.
The sun rays filing through the transplanted pines
Creating a perpetual fountain of lines.

Before me fast, rose and wilted the spring.
Walking down 5th avenue to the highway (of) old kings,
Past fancy row houses and daily car washings.
Past the sweat banks and stores that sell “everything”.
The summer stroke has made me too, a blushing bride,
Along With my neighbors, blistering on 5th avenue’s north side.

The residents of 5th avenue don’t know what they Receive
If they might try to see, watch how our lives Interweave
Simple stories of their daily lives; lounging, raking Leaves
Jogging, screaming at their wife, hearing birds sing in the Eaves;
Not noticing but still living through songs to prove,
They will realize the ecstasy in history and its power to Move