I was born on a storm drain evening /
tide going out like a fever / the water level rising
more than keloid scarring / the humidity
a christening dress / the rattling of palm fronds
a rewinding cassette tape /
the wind brushing sound up the street.
in fourth grade we studied shipwrecks / & the ghosts
of St. Augustine’s castillo. / scuttled imposable history. /
a charter bus dropped us off outside / a congregation
of headstones / eroded by salted air / my foot hit
the earth / my eyes cleaved through a person /
a clear man in a fog / his form filled by the sea.
how much of Florida is in me? / I’m not saying
I couldn’t devour / a whole key lime pie blindfolded /
but there’s always something faintly metallic about it /
fork tines as railroad tracks / ghost trains in my peripheral. /
one day the sum of me / will be crumbling
coquina / havocked by tourists & time.
have you ever seen the back of a manatee /
white-scarred & shredded? / yet
/ they swim on.