Fire on the Sea

A ribbon of jet black sand stretched forth

into a misty uncertainty.

You and I walked for miles.

An unrelenting whisper

tore the leaves from the tree

the words slipped off the pages

sand on the wind

into the mist.

And I have known a thousand cloudless screaming skies.

I have seen the eternal blaze of a South Pacific starry night.

I have glided through time slowing tunnels of fire and ice.

I have been blown across acres of the ever-changing sea.

And I have meandered down mile after mile of the open road.

Somewhere along the way,

you became no more than a memory to me.

Monumental fluid walls

of aquamarine approach

stacked towards infinity

separated by shadowed valleys

where my most pressing desires

and tangible fears

find space to coexist.

My pulse cannot help but quicken…

We were unlikely

and it was untimely

from the start.

But you kissed me anyway.

You kissed me deep and slow.

You let me count your freckles.

A seed split open

as new growth crept forth

and caught the first rays

of a rising summer sun

only to be lifted from the earth

just before it blossomed.

When you were certain that it lay lifeless

on the ground beneath your feet

you dusted the dirt from your hands

and walked away.

It was not just because I shot him

that he wanted revenge.

I had also killed his brother,

and maybe even his sister too.

When he fixed his gaze on me, however,

he was more scared than furious.

His silver scales glinted in the sun

and some chocolate milkshake

dribbled out of his bum

as I swam him back to the boat.

‘Quick, grab a bum clamp!’ I yelled.

I could not afford to let any poo escape.

In case I had not done enough damage,

or inflicted enough pain,

I clamped his anus shut

with a stainless steel artery clamp.

That will teach you

to shit yourself

as you die

you little fucker.

But seriously,

I am sorry it had to be this way

little buddy.

I thank you for your feces.

I promise

I will put them to good use

when I get back to the laboratory.

The top was off

of her blue jeep

as we sat beneath

the San Diego sun.

The breeze was heavy

with the smell of the sea.

You could almost taste it.

The last few years

unraveled

in a single moment

as I told her

I wasn’t sure anymore.

Our tears tasted of the sea.

I could have put money on it

that there was a familiar mexican

sleeping in my appartment

if I was wrenched out of my drunken slumber

by the unmistakable sound

of urination

on kitchen appliances

or living room furniture

or anywhere for that matter

besides the toilet.

Nine times out of ten

it was a mexican.

This van was as massive

as a small house.

She was rusting from saltwater

and her blue paint was fading.

She was called

la ballena azul - the blue whale.

I sat behind the wheel

as she fish tailed through

tropical mud puddles

when a lump

of columbian cocaine

on a silver key

was put beneath my nose.

The rock-‘n’-roll was fast and loud.

I am not sure

why

I said ‘no’.

We would wait

for the cover of darkness

and for you to fall asleep.

With a little bit

of liquid courage

we would find a palm leaf

of prodigious size

and stuff it through

your open window.

Palm leaf man strikes again!

A dismal day on the sea says I

as lazily overhead a gannet flies.

An air of somber solitude

another one of her many moods.

That song reminds me

of the golden beaches of our past

that showed us so much happiness

as we sat upon the couch

on top of a cliff

overlooking the sea

drinking beer

and tapping our feet

O the night!

The crickets and frogs know

the familiar stars

and the timeless moon.

How I find comfort

in the deepness of the night.

Do not give way to day just yet!

Before your pretty hazel eyes met mine

I didn’t believe in

love at first sight.

After the first year of adventures

with your little hand in mine

I would never have guessed

that love

might not be enough.