Floating On Cold Water Poem by Jimi Doyle

No vanity fair magazine
to float on cold water
and arc further out
with sea moss and iodine kelp
and the run of slapping waves
then wash up sandy in ensenada

Near a cracked up automobile
breaking through a house rusted by sea life
insects ornery and electric
hang in the air
as Christmas ornaments
all unpacked

There is nothing to hear now

The water pipes broke in the house down there
and wood rot
deep root-flesh
took over for good

all salt
all junk

Between which
tiny blue flowers
will themselves up
through cold early dew
thick as a welcome mat

each a prism
of all the blue water
each obeying
in substance the sun