— With gratitude to T.S.E.

There is power in the left toe,

not unlike an orgasm

or a sneeze.

Or being struck by lightening

on the beach at Venice

while pulling down our pants.

for a brief interlude

followed by a shortness of breath.

The mermaids are singing out at sea,

the bees are drowning in their honey;

old men hide in imaginary caves

to draw pictographs on each other’s dirty faces.

Farther out at sea, the mermaids trade embraces

while we, lying on the shore,

brush the sand from each other’s thighs

while listening to the moon’s laments,

the mermaids’ sighs.