lawrencetown beach (mostly frozen summer surf)
even with the suit
legs freezing in
summer waters while
rocks wound and
edge feet cut to bits
and red faced and
a half
hearted paddle out
(and a day of one of
those one of those days)
the paddle out
and sloppy ways and
sloppy waves and fighting
the rip played out arms creased
nothing right not rightly for a left
and mushy waves white foam and
last nights wind never came down
(and you know)
that gut feeling cold and balled up
you know in that deep blue
that deep blue part
waves in carpets and kegs
carpets and kegs rolling in
you know something’s
something watching you
under somewhere and it’s
time time to call
last ride and
ride the next wave
all the wave in
way in
it’s the locals
you can’t see
that just may have teeth
and tempers to match
makapu’u first day waves
got off a plane two days before
drove out
first waves
smiling and nothing
can break through
at the top
and the water rising
the wave jacks up
pushing sliding
and the board too
sliding and gravity bent bends
and free energy
and caught it so surprised
and never made
forgot the bottom turn
stupid smiles perma grinning
never made it just
straight down blue blur
in white foam and
a tube roar behind me
straight in beach side
rode til the
shore hit
board bottom
beached and dug in
couldn’t say a thing
that’s the smile
they’re all talking
about
kunduchi beach long ago now
often
thinking
about the
very length
so much sand
water blue and
a little under the
weather always so
very nice and the smile
feet so hot on the white
sand underneath and the
cooler is there before you
can say no and you don't want
to not really for its hot and a drink
could be cool and loquacious running
down kunduchi for a long time a stretch
its true so long ago i remember such a time
and some rock and corals also there to stub toes
and a blue boat and a black man and white teeth with
rope around his shorts and a basket balanced in vertigo
but not as bad as spinning of course more to the sway and
the swaying palms and softy ice cream winds onshore cooling
and worried about the car and the vinyl heats the smell of plastic
sand dancing from seat to seat and just a check and a dry towel and
no need no want no idea to be in that car so near the beach and that real
good day of days after the trip out of the city kind of like the light from california
but not and much more to it than all that and a lilt of the radios and the kids run up
and down the sands so going on and on and on and the day lasting almost as long
there's a point of end in the distance but around a bend and another side and going on
long walks good for my head so thinking it could be so but kunduchi always is and the
same sensitivity and warm winds protect me the same as long ago i sit and thinking
about what then
Mike Sluchinski is a mature part-time University of Saskatchewan student and does construction and demolition work. He often listens to his Thai astrologer and his wife, although rarely in that order. Blessed and favored by faith, he prays every day, especially short ones, sometimes under his breath if there's hammers and nails involved. His poetry has been published in Freefall , In Media Res, and Grain magazines.
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