A crazy woman stood laughing at the pier The tide was red all the fishermen had poles And all the poles were empty Her voice was cackling like a metallic moon Small dark children ran around tired pilings with darting eyes She leaned over the ledge laughing bright and corrosive Red tide, red rust the waters yielded no fish Red tide, plankton clouds swirling Full moon / high tide / no current Her bushy hair burning brightly Her mind tossed about, burning with hard edges, bouncing But the red tide is real pretty at night said the fish hut owner His Santa Claus beard His overlarge frame His cheap beach chair throne Yep, come 4th of July, people were amazed, sez he The red tide is fluorescent at night. What a display She keeps spinning to herself, a soliloquy for an art house of one / Her throat arched back / Her shawl oddly draped / Torn macrame mermaid seaweed hanging askew, & barnacles & rusted nails & splinters of salt water tumble out her mouth / People stay away. She's coming down hard & crashing Yet the waves betray no life Suffocates everything, the fish hut owner says Empty-handed the poor Mexicans & checkered white folks Sunburned / marked with artless tattoos Baseball caps worn backwards, scruffy shoes Crooked yellow teeth smiling grimly / Got a smoke? Red tide not even a radio is playing The darting small children Flashing like minnows on the rubbled dock
Letter to the Author at SoulGnosis@aol.com