the
island counter top
in
the kitchen
let
the poems & ants
mingle
like a quiet
off-season
mosquito coast
no
parallels with hemingway
or
humphrey bogart key largo
storms
and words come & go
it's
hard to find a beginning
if
you dwell in the endings
plywood
is at a premium
as
the winds pick up from the south
every
body of sweat like the surf
brings
you to another precipice
before
you drip in unison with the marsh
mangroves
bend
trying
to hold the roots
like
anchors
vultures
& turkey vultures
hide
until it all blows over
iguana
highway the last resting place
for
the stragglers
dead
or alive
---
e b bortz
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