Pee hate

I sleep cold at low tide,
back to a naked beach

opening herself to the Pacific.
I own no Nook, cell phone, boat,

wear old jeans, rag coat,
sift trash, eat molded cheese,

ketchup packs from burger sacks,
fallen fruit off condo trees.

I text my name in water, on sand,
under a moonless sky, pee hate

through the graveyard gate
when headstones tug at my thighs.

Timothy Pilgrim