If it was me, I’d be
Asleep in a tent,
Ready with hooded
Sweatshirt, pre
Sunrise trail headed

To southern shores
On a gilded gulf
Where my mind finds
Deep horizon’s
Purpled paper lines

Wined and dined in
Cliff bars, smoke
Filled foiled hissing
Clams, limes rim
Salty icicles higher up

Tucked into pockets
Stuffed with a
Little umbrella, spf 50,
Cleats, glasses
And none of that, that

Passes as daily news,
Screens, plugs,
Even electricity vibes,
High in altitude,
Green and sandy blue


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