A NEW DAY VISION
Visions by the liquid ocean
of a new day vision
as a poet moves
his hunched up wheels
arriving in a hour
of a unrecorded time
North beach bumming
with sleep walking poems
inky from his back pocket
of a pawned
black leather jacket
by first light
abandoned even by the wind
along a seedy bar
near the bay side
of a crystal blue ocean
as buzzing seagulls
rise by unbalanced crags
with all sorts of dudes
getting pleasure
along the empty car lots
by the gazebo
trying to stay awake
after a jazz gig
taking out my sax
after being
waterlogged and drunk
from a winter storm
in the rain of time past
eluding waves of the Bay
listening to low tide
with a keen ear
of discursive voices
my lips already fishing
for a couple of alabis
of why I’m a runaway
and fugitive poet
here feeling unbalanced
under the airy sky
of your own fate.