Do you lay out your bedsheet, floral and faded
Does the man beside you like baseball
or wear this badge for protection
Do you vote the same
though you speak different languages
Does the guy with the tattooed back
fly the dragon kite
to try to reach God
where drones are not permitted
Do the red-headed twins
in modest one-pieces covertly twerk
when away from family
Did you see the woman who is paler than the sun
with the twinkle of her phone in hip pocket
the music of a hundred likes
glinting through white linen
Do you believe it’s the saddest year of her life
Is nudity contagious
Do we all remove our shirts at once
Do the plump and old enjoy the beach
any less than the slim and young
Do you want to know the name
of the colour the flag whispers
to a sky whose head is turned away
a curl of hairy cloud
Do you grow thirsty for the salt
of your news feed
Do you not want to be in the hot
gritty now of our lives
Do you sprint for the awesomeness of ocean
like a teen boy, Boogie Board tight to chest
Forget all shark footage, laughing teeth
Do you see that the eyes of the lovers
are the same, like the sable stones they throw
or do you cover your face with a cloth and sunbathe
Are you the type to end the season on unhappiness
Do you suck the seashells
Do you empty your shoes of promises
Do you lose something
Do you hold your head underwater
choosing the darkness
Do you read Emily St. John Mandel or Roxane Gay
or do you read nothing or do you read the clouds
Do you photograph the thin line
of ocean and sky and your parents in front of it
one of whom will die next year
Did you see that sarah and samira
disappear the same, neither name
having staying power in sand
when water fills the finger-furrowed letters
Do you sip secrets
like the lady with the wide brim
or sunscreen your hefty breasts
with the talent of hands that dip
so quick, hands that have served
more customers than you can fathom
that have made perfect change all her life
Surely nobody you pass today could be the one
to carry and place the bomb
The sky would darken over them
and the seagulls shriek mad songs
Do you hold the sandy hands of children
who do not believe in danger
Do you test the water while
your brother eats his anger
Far out there, is the black whale waiting
Will the woman with bikini and braised
pregnant belly endure the ocean cold
and will her skin kick with each swell
Should she decide at just that moment
the name for the baby
Do you think fate is in the wind
that rushes the waves, quickening them
Does the ocean want
to detach your hair like seaweed
Does it slap you harder
than your mother did
And when you return home
under a starved moon
do you breathe again
that hardwood kitchen dust
Do you enter your own space, careful
to carry the sandy towel to the tub
to shake out all the hard granules
of the gentle day?