Looking for Snakes on the Beach at Night

How can anyone take the purple smell
of cigarillos seriously, throwing up
off boardwalk piers into sand dunes
boasting signs about snakes, beware
the rattlesnake, this is its home we
have dropped our folding chairs onto
our trashcan goal posts, our interior
truck music and lives together with
just one other. I have never seen a
rattlesnake. I have however sat in an
empty tent that no one seemed to come
home to. I used the walls to better hit
my pipe. I sniffed the stolen air for sex
but it was already covered. I have
never seen a rattlesnake. I have however
seen teenagers crying in the ocean with
their Bibles, looking like tired surfers
letting several gods wash over them in
waiting for a larger god. A more swollen
feeling. I have never seen a rattlesnake
I have disposed of truth, as it is without
coil, without the spring to life that
fills me. I know the moon will pull the
water in, and push it out. But how much
closer is a moon that leads us out there
with its light as a bridge, onto the oil?
To see the people going on there. I have
never seen a rattlesnake. I have pretended
to see one, even pointed at the holes they
may have made with their heads. I lamented
their absence of hands, as I do
my own absence of people touched

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