30/30 Day 1

Montauk

If I were here in the town of my mother alone
I would walk down the street to the only bar,
drink the right drink look a fisherman in the eye.
I'd take him down just to make memory
of how salty he was-- leave quick as fever
straight to the ocean to decide
if today's the day to drown/ let myself be
a blue whale washed up in some other girl's
harbor. I'd sit splayed legs at the phosphorus
edge/ pack sand hard against my panties
and remember how magical playgrounds were
before safety codes and generic slides-- good enough
reason not to wade in. Go back
to my crumbling hotel and take an almost
hot bath instead/ be content to hear
sets at shorebreak yards away, remembering
the ocean is always there
ready for the right woman.