Mutiny on the Bongos

If you can’t skid past the diamond
light etched in the sky you could always
torch a palm tree I said

you’ll never have enough
fingers to count the ways nor the x-ray eyes
to gaze past the velvet armor

(the blue tunnel leading to Yokohama
via Rosario Beach rippling on the rusty side
of forever
                        tipping back the twilight

if only to dull that silver tidewater resolve
& shake the turquoise dust of these lost moments
spent like loose change

a lemonade somersault in the diorama
as framed by the knuckles of your left hand