a private coastal road
a private coastal road
by Oswald James
riddled with gangs of bored teens
on motorcycles
windows break in the ether
of vacation rentals on the cliffside
at a beach bar in the middle of the night
we pretend to be interested in the match on screen
the bartender asks if we want to change the channel
who would dream it?
a toast to the new year
with the librophiles and the fisherman
to Posiedon . .
and the octopi of our dreams
may they swim free . . .
forever
We can still dream, even though our situations give our intellects little to work on.