Not a Beach

Watersnakes mottled face making slithers in the lake

Motions, slimy rock plunker, deep. Forty isthmus sand dune place

Take off the shirt make it sunners, slather face, we won’t make it to Charleston this summer.
Blathers.

Lake Me banks take front now. Sorbonne’s vacant make the uggboot leavings beer pong on the lawn

Saw a catfish. Noodles ( Read more... )

            With his arms sprawled against the starboard bulkhead and up over the gunwale, and his left foot resting on the tiller, Henge rested his head over the side of the boat. His Sioux Indian headdress, and the end of the billowing feathery mane licked the surface of Lake Me.

His mouth gaped up to the sky, mawing up the last gulps ( Read more... )