I’m too weak to talk, too tired to crack open my beer.
Cloth in hand assisting the task
Too weak to think pour and drink and sink a bite into the dog that bit me
It wont all fit so we fight. I win and down it goes
Beer mixed with V-8
I can feel a shit as I drink and sit, witnessing the tide pulling out
The broken driftwood fence cradles the precipice of broken shard
Diesel engines roaring spewing gut smoke and churn
My beer turns to skunk in the sun
My cattail hat shades my sinking face
A floatplane passes then dives like a pelican for fish
Rotten pears soft and brown
Lie atop the ground
Green grasses brown as moss dies
beneath the tire tread sole of my Mexican sandals
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