Shark tooth necklace

Heavy showers most of the weekend. I was hoping for sun before the work week starts. Things have picked up there in the world of electrical supply. Ive been moved inside to the offices for most of the day , helping out with the counter when it gets busy or as needed. I don't mind writing up a few orders on the counter,the social interaction, listening to the customers , their stories. Selling. I have my own cubicle space inside, a direct phone line , a growing stack of vendor catalogs, business cards. I have a few contractor accounts already. Its different on the other side of things, before i was the one buying the supplies, now i sell them. And i have to say there is more fun and challenge in selling or getting materials people need then just ordering crap for a job you were the low bidder on , praying you stay in budget so maybe you might make some money. Screw that. Now they come to me for materials i know they need, all i have to do is give good service and decent prices and i get commission on top of that for just doing my job. Writing up orders. Getting myself fired from that other job was the best thing that could have ever happen.

The sun broke through in the Sunday afternoon. I drove to the beach bringing my dive mask, snorkel and fins. It had been so long since Ive been in the ocean i had almost forgotten how the salt feels on the skin, the briny smell , how it dries when you re in the sun and flakes off like table salt. It's peaceful swimming the surface looking into the shallows below. The colorful fish and coral reef , the pull of the tide, the gentle rock as you move forward kicking your feet as fins. I dive below to get a closer look , to become a part of the sea, my snorkel filling with water holding my breath. There is the silence where you can hear your heart beat. That you can look up from below while touching the sandy bottom, the sun surreal from this angle, fish swim by me curious to what i am and why i am here. Just to be somewhere else for a moment. heart beats and salt water. I make my up to the surface and clear the water from my snorkel.

the coconut and rum , sun tan oil and boiled shrimp. explorers and pirates made their way here to South Florida. Tomorrow ill be in a cubicle under fluorescent lights. But today the sun and the salt water drying on my lips.

 

when you noticed your ghost

It's so warm today it could be summer. She empties the drawers and lays out her dresses. Cotton soft, bright and clingy.  It could be oblivion. We ride our bikes when the sun starts to fall. The breeze through her hair and dress, breaks every bone in my body. It's warm, my bones heal, my blood is blue through my skin. Red outside where the air touches it, where the lies and sweat and wine flows.

New noises: baby cries, dogs barking, the high-pitched whistle of our dented tea kettle. Perfect in it's imperfection. The last few notes of a song you recommended. Am I the ghost you wanted me to be?

The heat sticks to the pavement like a summer dress to skin. Neon lights and palm tree sway. Tourists on spring-break pack hotels and emergency rooms with sunstroke. To many beers with lime and key west shrimp. Tits bouncing to the reggae beat. There are more clothes off than on. Tattoos telling the stories of each others lives. The salt water draws them in. The briny air and art deco moon. 

the boat was sinking

never liked much of the back break, okay. im a libra and a little lazy. I’ll start by telling you about his girl again. she knew how to keep herself busy at night but during the day all she ever wanted to do was.... sleep. despite this she’d call me in the morning, sleepy and hungover. she’d call me to say hello and break my heart. she’d call like i was her only friend, then call someone else who was her only friend. another guy who might come save her, who might invite her her over to visit the next town, the next state, the next distraction. she didnt have any intention on loving the one she was with. im not sure any of us have those good intentions for long. i mean, we do, but there are other things, other places, other dreams…...two people hardly fit inside there. from time to time shed come over and we’d fuck. we’d smoke cigarettes on my back porch. grill hamburgers, drink beers. it could be that simple, i guess, but it isnt. it could be that safe. it could be home.

I work, sun up, sun down. I drive past big square boxes with windows, i work in one, go home to one. I wonder like everyone else.....is there anything else? but maybe its because i wasnt looking long enough out the windows to see the flowers and trees, the flag pole. american? southern? i didnt take the time to breathe in the salt of the sea air, merely blocks away. I didnt mediate enough, read the right books, listen to the best songs. my taste in art and movies and blogs is suspect compared to the refined and low-brow hipster friends i associate with. i like young girls with old souls and older women with young hearts. I like pretty eyes more than a sunset. I like books that have previously been read, i like real books over touch pad reading. I dont like touching screens, media hype, multi-tasking, video games, car horns.


on a clear night above my house, you can see the stars. i never paid enough attention in school to learn the constellations. so ive made them up; pirate, horse, tits, big dipper, little dipper, circle, square, half ass cross-bow. the shiniest one i just call ....Star.

ive begun to notice things more. i write everything down. numbered like a list. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. I saw a bird today that had bright blue feathers and i meant to look it up on the internet when i got back home. i forgot and wrote this instead. i think its a blue-jay , some kind of blue bird. there isnt always space enough for the two of us. but mother- fuck im happy you're with me.

swimming with sea bears

sea bears like warm salty water and the sun. hibernation is in the summer - the opposite of winter bears. sometimes they sleep, sometimes they stay up all night writing tall tales: buried treasure, sharks teeth, pirate hookers. eating, drinking, fucking, swimming, writing, sleeping, crashing waves. Yeah. that's our thing.

all my days by the beach and ive only ever found one single shark tooth. I was about 9 and it was on the West Coat of Florida. not even in my own back-yard. I bent thin wire around it and tried wearing it as a necklace but it fell off and i lost it. I looked for more but only found shells and sea glass.

why not stay home all day and make art? why not be rich with the reward of gifts? i dream of one of those treasure finding things that you wave over the sand. going out on the beach in the early morning looking for lost treasure. I listen for beeps and high tones. gold, silver?. memories someone lost. I'd hang out until the sun was just above the ocean, ready to fall. pages torn from my notebook; a sea-side adventure tale that takes place in a sun worn motel. thieves and liars and whores. it would be mostly fiction. mostly.