All the oars fell in time.
      So they handed me a daiquiri, chord chains
pegged to the ol' dunes
      spinifex ziggurat, sea gulls
hot white in the bright morning chill, indigo toes
      silhouetted by hard & startled swells.
They sat still and looked out,
      Speedos brooding, falcon Circe

singing up a hip spray.
      I was half-way there, surf-cap
histrionic, sea stars & little whelks
      gathered to my shin-wakes,
dolphins barrelling up the breakers'
      ersatz pervious romance.