South Padre Island
South beach, you sheet, you glide, you always nearer.
South beach, you sheet, you glide, you always nearer.
You stilt the cloud-high friendly kissy-kissy.
Shore tracks you socket, briny, clearer-clearer.
You racing bracking sud-surf, stiff and hissy.
Gulf inside the line, you, fat brown curves.
Your never-far horizon drops apart.
Your sandals crush, your viper smacks and swerves.
Jujube watermelon hips. My cherry heart.
Stabbing in Padre man-o-war—ai, ai.
My foot, my hand, my other foot, my lips.
My knees of sand, my well-sung song, my sky.
Coral, your smooth stick, melting away the tips.
Wailing a J. Lo song to any hearer.
Girl in my selfie eye, girl in my mirror.
