One afternoon. Went for a walk. In spring. Broad asses, women bent over in gardens. On the beach. A bee's dancing paths among wild rose leaves, branches, blossoms. Smell of yellow-blooming broom. I fed my feet. Anemones among the basalt and rubbery seaweed, slobs of the rocks, like hemorrhoidal anuses. Scuttled crabs, little crunchy-shelled meat-toys, chilled in dank.

An ancient rusted manifold among the pebbles, a sea-tumbled glass piece smoothed like a translucent mint. Old tire and rusted hub, some rubber cut away. I tipped it over, it pissed like a horse. Pretty polluted day, the whole of Victoria and her harbors a smoky barroom, a battleship over in that corner. All things rulers against which I measured my ecstasy. I observed a redwinged blackbird, saw its young, heard it call me cheap.