I fill my lungs with salty spray
Wispy webs of water’s flight
The scheme is writ; the game’s away
Morning’s flame retires the night

My peanuts safe within my pouch
Except the one I crack in hand
I chew and wait in agéd slouch
And drop the shells into the sand

Through molded glass I spy the scene
Ensconc’d within my wicker seat
The trap is laid; at 6:16
I’ll knock the devil off his feet

My foil appears with purchas’d hair
The hobbl’d foe in morning jog
He sees me not; too vain to care
That mischief hides in shoreline’s fog

‘Twas just last month I laid in bed
My blister’d face I hid for weeks
A sunproof cream; a gift he said
In truth a trick to blotch my cheeks

But my revenge will seek him out
A blanket hides beneath the dune
Placed on the beach along his route
To strike at this retir’d buffoon


In flawless form the game’s been play’d
The trap’s been sprung; and mischief sings
His muffl’d moans my serenade
The bell of justice proudly rings

His seaside dash at every dawn
It gave me sight of vict’ry’s light
And so I placed that blanket on
A six-foot hole I dug at night.

Leave a Reply