Here is an English garden of sun – and water-
Loving annuals. Tenderfooted, we step
Along beach towel borders enclosing clusters
Of marigold heads, pansy, faces and petunia mouths.
Johnny jump-ups explode in our path.
Cockscombs posture casually alert for photographers.
Clouds of dissonant sounds billow and swirl
In a summer camp kitchen: a helicopter eggbeats
Sea froth, surf launders jellyfish on the washboard
Of the sand, voices tinkle and clatter, like a swashing
Sinkful of enamel cups and steel utensils.
A delivery truck beeps like a microwave oven.
But as we wade along the shore, fog
Like stage smoke transforms the scene from circus
To hobbit barrens sparsely interrupted by turrets,
Moats and bridges, earthform architecture whose small
Engineers scurry to mound up dikes faster
Than tidal dragon breath can melt them down.
Venus-like vapors convince us we are treading the strand
Of an ocean planet where alien life forms
Sprout from the soil: two halfsize humanoids
Rooted at the waist, a monkey face necked
To a sanstone pyramid. But we are reassured we are still
Earthbound by frequent gleams of video lenses.
Reluctant to return to roles of cookery and housewifery,
We splash on until for brief interludes
We are the sole inhabitants of moonscape dunes.
Then we reverse course and teleport almost
Instantly back to the parking lot, pausing
Only for a fortifying shot of diet soda.
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