Summer Whitewater

Cozy rockin’ Imperial Beach
with a half mile, into throngs
numbers up a quarter million
unlike Hampton’s ambiance,
the scenes value the unseen
leaving ghosts to roam free.
Space expands with wealthy
and divisive corrupt purchase,
creating vaults and museums
instead of a homey welcome.

Weird how life creates this dust
For signature in death's process
In outward transport of matter
excreting, separating, uttering…
It’s all the same shedded stuff,
A pooping matter makes room
for consumption or production
and a rare fast transformation.
IB Summer’s dirty causal nights
Intoxicate repeat dross offender.

The ocean sprays wet salt, spice
on constant, wash up and down.
Makes for every sort of dreamer
on beach to splash heat of sun.
Everyone is free to muster poop
without fear of shoes to distract.
The planet’s payback of poop
is sand we proudly track in home.

There’s flatline of ocean horizon
giving seashore its spectacular
clarity; sunsets or rises, bathing
color to sky, cloud, and memory
for last moments of light's ebb.
The reverse character and power
of moon led flux of fluid dynamics
rush to sandy crash of whitewater.

© 8/8/2004, RJDuberg