All Fish Go To Heaven

Steam spray tossed
              up across the sand
a rail of jazz
                              from the pipes
              & crushed cinderblock

Windwaves (a Chinese dragon tattoo)

I’m tumbling inside a washing machine on TV
                              with God doing the voice-over
              bumming a smoke

There will be a silver snake
              wrapped around yr wrist
in the ruins
                              darker along the sand & beach
              concrete where the sky is
carrying a shotgun harpoon
& a book
                              a Bible (dark) or poems
& like the hammer of dreams
descends beneath the lamp
at street level
the skeleton of a Tibetan trumpet
mumbling drizzle
              noodle precipitous
                              dank wherewhithall
                                                Jack of Diamonds
in the raw damp serpentine
of sea-mist dawn