Have you ever stayed out all night
On a beach where it sometimes rains
Parisian toupees,
Or seen the headless, handless girl
Pass out leaflets by the pier,
Or conversed with the mangoes
Who have steady jobs at the marina?
Come morning, there are no miracles
On the ship's breakfast menu.
And years from now,
When floating elephants drink
The last of my smuggled whiskey,
I'll be buried in the dunes,
Plotting escape from my shell.
Copyright 2007, by Jon Gregory. Written in 2004.
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