Jersey Shore

the shore is a kind of road that leads only to itself

the sound of its traffic is said to be soothing

its sand grains attract hourglass figures

we bury each other up to the neck

gulls & gamblers take turns screaming at the sun

we eat white sandwiches & colored ice

there are rides no one has ever dared get off of

there are entire hotels patronized only by crabs

paperbacks sprawl face-down like drunks

we hold hands & walk into the surf

it’s the only way to leave without paying a toll