Content yourself with rice; reveal yourself
with tea. Be childlike and sandwich bag the seeds
of summer's watermelon compassion.
Souvenir not only any rocks and shells
from the days you staked your ground at the beach
but the paper parking pass as well. Cash in
all but one of your chips from the casino,
or no, shake, rattle, and roll with emptiness,
but emptiness meaning weight divided by
itself, not that ticking, clock-faced zero.
It's not the heat but the resulting sweat.
The pounding sun begets the day's black eye,
not heavy rain or snow, not hurricane winds.
It's the commonplace that exhausts all means and defeats all ends.
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