Bad Stuff

In the microcosm that

is

a beach, a self

portrait

is always

of interest.

Perhaps not for what it says,

but what it does not.

It's Monday, the

Memorial Day.

No uniform, no

face even.

Out on the horizon,

a dredge ship, 

a replenisher is at work.

It will put back

the sand taken away

by time and tide

And storm and

evil and other bad stuff.

A replenisher,

there ought to be one

for the years a person loses

from bad stuff.

Straight ahead,

down the boards...

right to Atlantic City

where two Canadians,

a mother and a daughter

were bad stuff stabbed dead.

Last week, standing

there... minding their business.

Butchered they were, slash-slash.

Goin' ride those boards

now! And

remember how life can be... 

FIN