Low tide, a boy picks up a stone
and puts it in his mouth; his father yells NO
and peels it out. This is special water
he says, gently shaking his
body. It may look pretty
but it’s very, very bad for you.
The dog doesn’t care, she prances
in the muck, then climbs in my lap
and licks. Some habits die hard, says her owner
Her wet black blunt smelling like heaven
heavenfaced 