Saw my first concert there.

Jones Beach State Park

The grey wooden walkway floats damply over the grasping fingers of salt water:
Its pilings silent, clogged with must and clamped heavily with marine life.

The music is questionable: the question is immaterial

Over the roar of the sea: there is only the occasional gull.

What aren’t they thinking, sitting alone or in twos and threes?
Each one contains one bird-brain, and two hollow-boned wings.

Without any guidepost I would pace down the pier
Dividing up all the debris: some flotsam and some jetsam.

This uneasy and tired night, settled firmly over the sea-side landscape
A space reaching to be filled, like interlocking parts of a whole portrait.

Some darkness is like a winter, thin and full of wires
And the lights reflect on the surfaces of the water, moving back and forth.

Three flags wildly flapping and clapping loudly in the midnight breeze: 

I am casually rolling home wearing a garland of garbage and leaves


The pavement along side the pier, cracked and holding back
The earth’s final cataclysmic stretch outwards towards the stars.