I used to sit and clinch open
Glass wires of all-sorts.
For hours that one summer in 2006.
Convincing Temecula was every 45-minutes away in distance.

Woke up from a nap of pink-antihistamine
And schemed myself and I didn’t
Retire to get up until almost 10pm.
Back to night-shift just like I dreamed.

And it’s this same weariness that drags on.
Aqua, turquoise. Lapis Lazuli water drags.
Every shade of blue.
My midnight, indigo, sapphire hues
Were seen as depressive here on the coast
Of eating 208-varietal choices
Of different
Anchovy fish.
A vacation-spot for most and I made the art that gave your
Host
10 Million Dollars
In Donations.

So other people like, with pre-to-post cancer stings
Knowing a life paved forward is always gonna feel like
Shaping every piece of glass with my clippers
And gaining the courage to realize I’ve
Done this so many times.
Every design is unique and every mandala
Individualized in pattern, as the colores-deaon-blue
Don’t change much in azul
Houses and white-brick sandstone I have to throw eggs
At and
Pressure-wash every thursday.
As Tuesday is Mosaic-Cure-Away Day
And the Monday is just cutting burlap sacks of glass
And canvas bags of sand
And a swim to a 4- ft drop
Into a natural bog
And it’s the only place
On a 5-mile wide Island
I could get some privacy and listen
To something besides
Bueno-Airno-Static-Top 40
And the DJ
Got burned out on the coast and realized

Retirement, simply isn’t for me.
No matter how many times I try again.

It only takes about 5 hours of cutting glass,
That I realize –
I don’t need to wear gloves to make a mosaic anymore.
I’m a trained-professional. .Somehow. [after-all-this-time-away- from the project.]

{I don’t think I’m wrapped up – yet.}
It’s still like that, these days..