Stevens at the Strip: Peak Season

Water on the poster
rolls bluer than the sea, bluer
than the wide reek of sea,
grinding behind
a wooden dolphin’s
endless arc.

(Pure burn: the golden sun
disappearing like
a worn-out coin
in the cool water.)

The owner-operator
welcomes all indoors,
egging us on in song.
Others claim sky
is greener candy, that
candy is in the sky.

Now bloom of night
bleeds on green water.
O we feel the free air

_ The poem is an anagram of the body and title
of Wallace Steven’s “Disillusionment at Ten O’Clock.”

Mike Smith | Mudlark No. 30
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