depression white waves
no caramel corn

Sara says something in the wind
I don’t know what it is

slow walk down the boardwalk

some of my friends
buy trinkets from the few stores open
the knickknacks already look like they’re going to break

some are brave enough to swim
they look like they are catching a cold

Sara and I stand on the mushed pancake beach
devoid of maple syrup sun

the sand never breaks free from the tide
it’s relentless
it comes in slow
but harsh

nobody laughs
I don’t think one person
has laughed on this whole trip

I start wondering
what was
the first thing
I ever found funny

I’ll never remember it….

the sky has the blues
it never laughed and never will

I start to think
how long it’s going to take
to get me to laugh again

no matter how long it takes
it will be too long

the seagulls above me
sound like they’re being tortured

I begin to ask Sara what she said
that I couldn’t make out
but stop

I like the fact that it coulda been anything
even something to keep me going