I GOTS A BEACH POME TOO
JANUARY AT THE BEACH
Dipole logic of seagulls
aligned at Edgewater
spectator birds
by the vacated
lifeguard chair
If I throw particles of bread
into the buffet of wind,
I’m let into their
January moment
They hover,
suspended bird ornaments,
me at the center
of their xyz,
white belly hung birds
with individual mouths and
idiot eyes
From their throats,
a raucous thriving misery
Lady K
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