Hoe Boy Vacation
The day is a gorgeous sulfurous
yellow.
He trains his rifle on a surfer,
sights a gull as it dives toward a
gray wave,
lays the weapon on the glass deck
table
and sips a peach flavored energy
drink.
A man on the radio talks about a
bailout,
about a new law that makes it easy
to sue,
about big houses that nobody can
sell.
He doesn't wonder what happened
to his wife, his job, his children.
This is the vacation he wanted.
His eyes follow two female joggers
down the edge of the packed sand,
barefoot, lime green bikini
bottoms,
soaked white t-shirts.
He wipes the rifle barrel with a
towel,
thinks about writing a book—
aims over the heads of two children
building the castle of their
dreams.
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