#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Re-Visiting the Gulf of Mexico
On all the walks I walked
from July 1987. . .
I inhabited a Florida season
. . . to December 1994, because once,
on Honeymoon Island, he kissed
me in August, 1986 – we slurred
our bodies swim-dancing, we were
foaming around in hot salty sea
born: son, December 1987
born: daughter, March 1992
Salvation army sold us
an ugly brown couch, $100
we borrowed, bounced checks
we lived on Tuna Helper
swigged cheap non-alcoholic red punch
built a "desk" in a closet out of
an unfinished slab door
had the gall – or the grit? – to start
charging people to talk, and god
only knows why, or who the hell
gave us good money to listen
did this help anyone? did we "do" any good?
or, at least, do no harm?
was everyone who stumbled into
our oversized closet
as clueless – as reckless – as we
had no good reason to be?
All photos and text copyright Kelly DuMar 2017