The Beach
In theory I don’t like it but then when I’m there I remember how in so many other locations it is not considered permissible behavior to splay facedown and speak to no one the beach is one of the few spots left where you get spared where you may excuse yourself from the performance of these clabbered conversations one person saying the fortune teller on Highland Avenue couldn’t make rent and hammered the storefront shut the other spouting back shouldn’t she have predicted, being a fortune teller and all, that was going to happen sour pattern anyway that’s not what they do it’s not like they’re in there informing people which semiconductor stock is fixing to split or in what year they’ll get divorced it’s more silhouetted it’s not like they’re in there cautioning walk with another person that night keys will be hardly, the fortune reader isn’t in there screaming, weapon enough the beach the terns and the metal detectors the sensation of combing through sediment witlessly another person would not have been knocked into the air and propelled toward the copious bramble would not have stayed there all night would not have required returning the next day in hopes of retrieval kneeling scrutinizing the thistle