The impatient fisherman and his wife abandoned their spot and gone home.
There’s too much symphony in the sounds of train whistles, passing shadows,
and interstate traffic to get lost in old radio show podcasts.
This 50-year-old skin doesn’t make me human.
I feel less by the day.
After shift, check for a tail growing in the shower and for the protuberance of sharp teeth
No one speaks of how alligators were born:
whether it is something in the air, in the wharf music, and the passing shades of junkies and mad men
making the old DNA reactivate on lone nights next to the river.
Category Archives: waterfront
smells like old rubber and poutine
in this hazy sunset
you can almost smell the fire
burning Nova Scotia
Day 145, 2023
the swallows nesting under the stage
are early risers, the bastards. so cheerful
it seems that even the sunrise
arrives slower, hoping they’ve moved on
to post-breakfast nap