the ghaZalts are Running

“The Irish saved civilization”
“Aye, so they are blaming us for that too, are they?”


if the sea were the heart, and tides its pulse, and if the mind
were the wind and gusts its thoughts, my navel is the bath tub


the river changes directions between day and night between dark
and light, and in a few hours we’ll have drown dizzy overwhelmed


for luck, throw women over one shoulder
and men over the other, salt accordingly


these are some of the hottest days of the year i swear
outside can’t keep up with the alligators