someone found a horse shoe crab at the beach, it was still alive, and sensational. a tiny crowd formed. i said to a stranger “i love the drama” and they agreed, smiling. in these little openings - the shit is momentarily cut, pretenses dropped. standing in open awe and curiosity, under the july sun.
the people behind us on the sand shared their cooler and their speaker, riis hospitality, all of us baking, releasing, savoring the sunlight, the salt water. scantily clad, at rest, at play. could we share afternoons, meet each other at ease.
everyone’s music is in harmonious competition. there’s a sandcastle with reed fountains. bad buffalo dip, warm beer. summer impermanent, freckled faces, sunscreen there and there, still burning. yes take some. someone asks for tanning oil. someone else asks for the gummies. and they receive.
sheltered in between the abandoned buildings and the tide, on the shore, shoring each other up. someone sitting behind us says, i love everyone here, and i believe him.
i don’t know what happened to the crab. i hope it got left alone. apparently horseshoe crabs are not crabs or crustaceans they are chelicerates, most closely related to arachnids, such as spiders and scorpions. all of the lies we tell each other, tell about each other. i wonder if the horseshoe crab that’s not a crab would care if they could know about this misnomer. or maybe they do know. and maybe in the 300 million years they’ve been around they’ve seen enough to not be phased by people being clowns.