| Mixed Plate|
Poetry -- S is for...
in the dark
The doorbell rings.
My coworker has another ride.
She passes me the car keys.
Iím out of here!
Trader Joeís is still open.
Damn, thereís so much to choose from.
I settle for mixed nuts and chocolates.
Itís nippy outside.
Gotta eat at Rubioís.
Chicken burrito y fish taco.
No chihuahuaís here.
Muy hot sauce!
I drive to Windansea.
Miss the turnoff in the dark... again.
Parking lot is empty.
Where is everybody?
Mandatory Metallica blasts at 8.
Quarter moonlight lights the horizon.
Waist-high surf trickles in from the NW.
Damn, I wish my Achilles was healed.
I shiver violently in the car.
Itís dark, cold, small and I canít surf anyway.
I ask myself why the heck am I there?
Then I remember, Iím a surfer.