There Are No Seashells Poem by Juan Olivarez

There are no seashells,
On this beach.
Just seaweed,
Strewn all around.
The water is cold,
But the sun is bright.
An old fisherman,
Sits all alone,
Casting bait,
Into the blue Pacific.
I don't think,
He's had any luck.
Or maybe,
He's just there,
To get away,
From his wife.
Now maybe,
He can have a shot or two,
Of Jim Beam.
And smoke,
An Arturo Fuentes,
Curly head.
But I still see,
No seashells.
Maybe past the jetties.

10/26/10 Alton Texas