transient atlantic

by Steven J. Serafiani

whenever I go on a break from
work, I take a seat on sandy
steps that lead out to the
Atlantic. listen to construction
workers yell as they build a
pier, the machinery humming and
clanking. light up a light blue
american spirit to match my
mood. as
homeless transients
and grey haired vacationers stroll
on behind me, I stare out into
the docile sea and think

I should find out how far I could
get if I walked right in.

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