Devotion

The dudes gaze out from fraternity row.
Call each other Bro.
Bump fists in courtship
Of common valor.

Their mutual bond,
The Pacific’s wand,
Roiling her spells
Towards shore for more.

They’ve done this all before.

Now the lingo of
Half baked jingo knowledge
Theorized in college
Gets put to use.

Not so abstruse
That Billy can’t tell
What the hell you’re saying
About tides and currents.
​
White capped foments to overcome
In the name of pleasure.
This glassy treasure
To ride and glide

Across the surface of the swelling tide.
A tubular purpose
To follow thrills
And headover spills.

The potions of the
The falling, flailing ocean
Bewitch the brethren
Along the coast.

Buds to boast
Make a salty toast
To rolling motion
Of prayer in wet devotion.


9/23/20