Sea Salted Cocoa Nut

Hunting 

window seats,

timeless observation decks,

for things - 

people really -

sifting 

over and over. 

I don’t understand 

or pretend not to

for the sake 

of a plastic beach 

somewhere. 



Reworking the data,

changing perspectives,

and updating the algorithm

through sips 

from a tulip glass. 

Making it absolutely nowhere. 



Still, the water runs;

the purple coats

cry on the corner, 

a blue Porsche 

drifts around...

whatever you say,

space cadet.