Le ciel des vacances

I was delivered to an idealism: no seashore. Though "gulls." Though "flotsam." What use this deal of dunes to the dresser of deal? Exactly an avenue spreads its fronds to define a space for the eye to wander. The eye that fetches an image home. Two notes collided in a beam to be you, coughing. A trapdoor sprang for me, a ship went down.

*
Try to be less falutin': it's a nice place to visit. Brooklyn loosely mazes me and finds me a stoop to sit on. The New Year breathes tsunami news: not senseless. A man on the radio carefully distinguishes between the sounds of breaking and bursting glass. Drinking. Now it's all political, now it's getting all over my hands.

*
No pies to divide sang the bandaged clerk. Love passes with Artie Shaw like the advertising blimp in Blade Runner: yes, freshen my dystopia. The rain of rain falls samely to be rain. Crowds collect on the dewframe. This loneliness won't stick. So I fought for a preserve for the wings that sheltered your face.

*
Lost in place. Even cigarettes are ironic in the lips of an angry drag queen. Death dressed as a woman as usual. In my dream hand in hand we ran down into the beach's well, our bare feet skipping lightly over pursed upturned shells. A shadow haunts these memories. Overtaken on the way out just as usual. Squeegee report at the mouth of the Lincoln Tunnel—escape with New York down the eyepatch hole.

*
Pleasure needs no introduction to a man in a filigreed waistcoat bearing a watchless fob. Dandy of the intellect kiss me hard on my chapped lips. We are running in place to stay here as the wave taps us on the shoulder. Our eyes caught by compacts in each other's manicured hands. Once twice three times a lady gave birth: ladymass. Once a gentleman swallowed his eyeteeth in surprise as a dropped stitch. Bang buh-bang the bullets bounce.

*
Old wolf of the plateaus. Doctors under the influence. The presence of life on Mars. Europe, milk, hospice. Redeployed for the public trust. High salaries for high health. A power that needs no reminder. Repetition isn't rust.

*
Minima mooring, whale crawl, subsonic chaser. The dance troupe pursued through twilit shoals. Academy gymnastics leave emo in the dust. On wave-tops. Invented shallow bathtub shook so noise ensures. Shock born bebop. Ocean crumples to become a flung cracked chorus of underwater stars. I hope we. I sin she. Banshee news.

*
Shapely I tongued thee, I found you foundered shape. Swimmingly I oared thee, I rocked you over the tidal. Sweetly I anchored thee, I bound you to promising sandbars. Heavenly choir buoy-borne. The ladder of extended arms in arrangement, splashed by your azure cynicism. Ladder of the folded brow. The discovery of underwater earth. We are moved.