after the long eddy paddle
down from old angler's (a few nice surfs here and there)
yellow falls, the offut waves, stubblefield
in my mind there is only
that wave - formed for a second there - massive, planar, glassy but surging
at the top breaking foam
probably surfable amidst the frosties.
the low tide drops out from
below the rocks
barely visible and too jagged to form the grand canyon 3-d wave box
too flushy for the boat
eating whirlpools to form
it's still plenty munchy.
it's rowdy rowdy rowdy
and whooping past the fishing crowd
i can't see a damn thing but white
brown
brown
brown
running the brown
claws down
patches of color on the bank
stern sweep sweep
stern sweep sweep
stay upright
brace
sweep to angle surf past the friendly rocks now looking mean.
take a shower when you get home
to flush the brown back down
out to the bay where supposedly,
it belong.
poetry and shorts on flow states of various kinds, occasional explorations into clutch states, ebbing.
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