log ride (1990)

be careless in plotting one's accidents,
hold momentless against the rim
of lip's mind

only long enough to taste
the lone star there,
then allow flight towards the scene

of early california's life 
guard post overlooking pacific suck
and swell as megan and bob

turn eyes with whitecap rise
against darkness sounding health;
she's checking sand for sea lice

who shuffle to escape
openness revealed less truth than one
white-washed overexposed space of play

in a surf where youth flexes 
skinned-knee immortality over a zenith
speckle pinpointing the happenings

of the santa cruz boardwalk
abuzz with dreamstate families gnawing
wandering mom knees into broken clutches

limping lives over orphan arcades
plugged by heroin's dentist
who preaches caramel of normalcy

to fly to holiday islands on resulting profits
of last year discounts
sporting white-gloved hands 

withdrawn since need incurred
impression of awakening not to morning 
subtle pleasures but revelation

of ride's transfer: on the climb
up the ramp splendid view
of an ocean churning violet waves

as the hollow plastic log 
grinds up time's saw
and descent sprays the face with incense,

every day's design