heads: despondent in South Beach
volcano of bile scalds flesh. get out of bed. walking is unguent. to the ocean. if I fist a wave will I find calm. sun too hot. walk to strip of palms along Ocean Dr. across street a deco hotel. bars of blue beside lavender. white circles & green lines. I choke for air. I breathe so deep I feel my toes in my mouth.
tails: across the bay
art pulls us from the midden. opera calld me to Miami. the perfection of Mozart wd probably nourish on a deathbed. & Verdi when done with fire (& here it was literal) can make us soar (even when the lovers die in each other's arms).