‘and the mermaid said, why bother?’

 

April is the coolest month, making

Swim trunks out of old jean shorts, mixing

Tanqueray and lager, stirring

Stray dogs with spry brains.

YouTube kept us dazed, covering

ears in formica rhymes, slipping

A tiny boy in tired viewers.

Seymour surveyed us, driving over the wet interstate

With a powder of beans; we stood on the fish-drenched wharf,

And went on in green mist, into the new Starbucks,

And drank macchiatos, and passed out.

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