MY FELLOW MEN


All over the world my fellow men are offering advice

To the tune of the sea as it tries to reclaim

Calculus for the perfection of its waves. 

I explain to the sea how this is an answer in search of a question.

Returning to the multitask at hand, I tear out my throat

And elect not to further entertain.

Soon, and happily, the swell in the office of the brisk sea air 

I had installed with my own money 

Throws these unsuspecting shadows for a loop, 

Sends their antecedents tracing wayward paths 

Through the majestic drift of one dollar to the next—
Their dicks have blossomed into shuttlecocks.