A Postcard From Santa Cruz

warm beer
rosary beads
clutched for nothing
but comfort
this arched man is undone
nightly

he two steps the boardwalk
as if dancing to Basie
memories thrumming his head
a persistant moth

that finally settles

to a baseball card
on a back bicycle wheel
the road melt day in 1976
riding with Lucy Schwartz
to the lighthouse and beyond

Jesus Christ
she was something
wasn't she
legs of guilt
cinnamon kisses
a rock solid knee trembler
aching to be a woman
of her time

they come
they go
like dimes

and drizzle

now the bruised mist
shrouds heavy
muffling the rollercoaster
pulling a tarp over the day

he falls asleep
on blown popcorn
and dreams cheaply
of America

and her floating away
to Mexico City