one of the reasons i love tuesday nights

there is a badly balanced low off the coast tonight it blows homeward the welcome smell of early summer turning late spring it blows the metal and glass of my light door shut tight and fast it blows the metal and glass of my light door shut fast and tight the ocean roars as the high beach becomes viscous abrasive liquid moving and churning through wooden graves beyond the bar between there and now and in between in ponds or deep ditches the chatter of frogs sitting in there's like a whole neighborhood of them they live where the turtles are looking when they cross my busy summer road singing to each other in hopes of they have no idea what is coming and they do not care