Nocturnal Journalist Celebrates a Vacation in Parasailia

If it is heart shaped hands
And heart shaped eyes
On a heart shaped head
I suppose it's not so bad
Walking down our block
With hair touching the heavens
That hair, all the waves in this world

But if we're being honest --
I was extremely scared
More than when I had a nymph
On my lap
Beginning to get frisky
And me just rolling with it
Like, don't worry guys
It's harmless
Still scary
But not as frightening
As 'a stranger walks into town'

Quite the same
When building a story
If your wife is the small western town
And your friends are the barkeep, the noble whore and the jailer
Even the noble whore knows you fucked up
But keeps expectations low
Because survival is crucial

In another day or two
It will be all kinds of legs
For me
And a beach carnival
For you
And maybe it's all the same
For every single one of us --
We are all on the beach
There is a carnival going on
We are people watching
For some it is the smells
For others the elated faces of children
For some it's the screaming and jubilee
For others, legs

No matter
That for clowns, it's the trailer
And for the champion eater, a vat of beans
There are dragons to slay
And they are not friendly
Biting the hand that feeds
And spitting out sharp shards and fire
But a small splinter in the paw
Is still a daytime chore
And there is kindness there --
Where the legs are for walking
The shore for commerce
And the carnival, a colossal waste of time
--
5.6.13

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