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Sandra-Lee Hutt Aug 2018
I am the boardwalk lover, bringing shade to the ocean-side.
I love the boardwalk "not just sometimes",  "just the summertime".
Beauties, Babies, Bare chest, Bare backs following family and
friends to a beach path overlooked by sunny skies, flowing grains
of sand sloped and settled down from beach chairs, sand buckets, sea
shells, lobster tails and crab claws.  Here I am, chasing pecking pigeons
away, not just in the summertime, but all times.  One can view a  pigeon's
life, routine labor tasks, they peck, pick, echo sounds to their colony of
many, more than just a few fly along in flight, follow the strolls of beach-goers,  bikers riding close to the rails in sight, those carrying and tasting walk-away bites during the day right into the night.
It is a "pigeon steal of a meal"....I see the sand castles standing tall, artistic
creations piled high from a boy, a girl or someone who stands tall. Never "Under the Boardwalk".... One can lay, sit, stand or stoop on the beach free of shade, guarantee a tan, just in a day, blistered and buckled even the ocean waters won't wash away....
Salt pulpit,
streeted sand,
brass and tar,
bell broken
by the new wave.
Evening splinter
stuck in riprap,
memory hurled
into sharp relief.
Pilings grow,
dead teeth
from rushing
gum of surf.
Night's tide
parks on
blue sand,
dies as foam.
lights never
seem to waver.
Solaces Jun 2018
It was a boardwalk on the stars it seemed.. On the otherside of the universe.. I got to walk it.. It was raining light here and there.. The air smelled of star jasmine..  I could see your eyes every now and again as a raindrop of light would pass by them..  They were a deep dreamy brown that seem to swirl away all of my worries.. I was in your dream.. Somehow I made it here.. Or maybe you summoned me here..  I wonder what I look like to you in the fallen light rain? Do my eyes shine as bright as yours?
In her dream...
CK Baker Mar 5
Pilsner cap switch blade
tie dye and piccolo
greasers and freaks
with platform feet
muscling in
on the bow legged hoofer
Bursey Hill Tram

Diamond tuft console
mullets n' ****
angels and saints
appropriately trimmed
as 3 mile wreaks havoc
on the nickers and
fighters of penn

Bangers and home boys
hookahs and sheiks
hostile geeks
breaking knuckles and jaws
on the caners and skinners
who are locked
and grinding the root

Desert boot foothills
boardwalk jeans
rainbows and sea fairs
and psychedelic dreams
(the platinum queens
jamming it hard
on the jade room floor)

8 tracks
and fender packs
the hottest summer days
psychedelic haze
center hall, graffiti scrawl
(sinister yet refined!)
covering the subtle
yet striking third ****

Brunswick cues
and red man chew
350 blocks
(on a solid Chevy - stock)
monkeys and beatles
and laugh in scenes
pastel dreams
from the long and sacred
velvet scroll
Jack Apr 4
Down the block
You coerced with sweet talk
Steady like a hawk
Taking your time as you walk
It’s past 1 on the clock
You knock
Wish I could say I’m shocked
My hearts blocked
Lost somewhere along the boardwalk
I’d jaywalk but I see the night hawk
It creates a road block
I’m stuck on the sidewalk

Napolis Mar 19
Let God
bless our steps
along this
snailed holed

may he
give us time
to share
this day.

let the sea
come up to
spray kiss
our face.

let the wind
carry my
all around
you free,

and lie
deep in
these day dreams
that you keep.

look far
over the
horizon line
and I am
but a whisper
from you

to listen
to your prayers
and calm
your worries
you bear,

and walk
with you
close and
with great
pride on
this day.

be the love
to everyone
that you

the solstice
so bright
for all
to see,

the one that
seems to
grow in

and I will
find you
and rejoice
at your

till time
fades this
life away...

till stars
dull and
die alone  in
their celestial

I will
think of
guy scutellaro Sep 2018
( kate's birthday)

"How hot is?" Kathleen asks.

The bar is empty except for O Malley, Paul Keater, and a man and a woman.

"About 98.6," says Jack, the beads of sweat roll down his cheeks. He walks into the pool room to stand in front the big floor fan Kathleen follows him.

"Let's go to the boardwalk," Kathleen suggests.

"When it's hot like this it's hot all over."

"We can go on the rides."

"I don't like the rides."

"It might be fun. You promised me we'd go on the rides."

"I've got the next pool game." Jack says, and then he glances at Paul Keater who is playing pool.

Paul takes his shot. The eight ball drops. Keater slides the brim of his baseball cap back and fourth across his sweat soaked forehead.
"Ah ****,"  Keater murmurs.

"Jack, how do I look to you?" She is wearing a too short skirt, black nylon stockings, and a tight blue t-shirt."
girl gonzo Jan 16
when i was ten i discovered these books about summer
it seemed all the chapterbooks were filled with strange stories of girls finding their destiny by the sea as their whole life changed between boardwalk adventures and family urgency, like melodrama in small increments with too much sunscreen
something about one of them specifically stayed with me for years
the cover was of the shore and the sand dollars lined in a row as if waiting to be picked up or maybe had just been put down
something about them gave me the impression that this could be my life
an eternal summer that i didn't have to abandon, the book i didn't have to close, look into the sun and not have to pick my body up from the water
it seemed agreed upon that i could live in a continuous day
nighttime didn't exist and the moon was a name given to my mother's friend
everything was promised warm, my feet would touch pavement while my hair was permanently bleached
but the sunset came and shook my shoulders

i stand in my bathroom
cold and harmless
the window is fragmented so no one can look at your ***** body but it makes everything outside look like when you didn't realize you needed glasses and once you did every memory was post foggy
i could be a dying star or a sun brushing its' rays and you'd never know
sometimes my hands are so clean my nails taste like soap and there's no way to go about it but accepting that

there used to be a fire
and if i had to give it a name it would be Frederick
i don't know when it disappeared or how it even started existing
one day someone asked me if i knew how much wholesale toothpaste cost and my feet curled, i bit my lip so hard in fear i would scream until my throat bled
but that didn't happen instead something burst, not a vein but a sentiment
there were theories i used to develop while i went on dinner dates
i remember thinking of what i now reference as the sangria theory
while we sat and ate pasta and i could feel my head drifting while his eyes sank into the bottom of my shirt
i thought maybe all the people that you meet have no chance but a say
all circumstantial until you find something that harvests your attention
until you slip past the underwear and then nothing feels important anymore
was it ever?
you go separate ways, separate directions
as if in fear of finding something too close to whatever it is you're trying to find because then what would be the point of looking?
there was a fire and now there's a glow and i can't tell which one i like more

— The End —