SFO arrivals eyeshine
California queen coup’d
Posed in latent summer
When it mattered most
To see and be seen to be carefree
All this thrashing about
Grind now, grind later
Pale shoulders to copper
Citrusy sweet breath
Each head laugh its own reward
She writes with purpose
Not with artifice, her purpose
To avoid the artificial, her art
Is, if it is in fact art, so thin
As to be a whisper
With half a breath held back
