The Beach
In theory I don’t
like it but then when I’m there
 
I remember how in so many
other locations
it is not considered permissible
behavior to splay facedown
and speak to no one
 
the beach
 
is one of the few spots left
where you get spared
where you may excuse yourself
from the performance of
these clabbered conversations
 
one person saying the fortune
teller on Highland Avenue
couldn’t make rent and hammered
the storefront shut
 
the other spouting back shouldn’t
she have predicted, being
a fortune teller and all, that was
going to happen
 
sour pattern
 
anyway that’s not what they do
it’s not like they’re in there informing
people which semiconductor
stock is fixing to split or in what
year they’ll get divorced
 
it’s more silhouetted
it’s not like they’re in there
 
cautioning walk
with another person that night
keys will be hardly, the fortune
reader isn’t in there screaming,
weapon enough
 
the beach
 
the terns and the metal detectors
the sensation of combing
through sediment witlessly
 
another person
would not have been knocked
 
into the air and propelled
toward the copious bramble
would not have stayed there all night
would not have required returning
the next day
in hopes of retrieval
 
kneeling
scrutinizing the thistle
 
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