An eighty degree
afternoon
in January
should not be wasted.
I thought
And at the beach,
amongst the
Euros
still on vacation
and the pasty
white Canadians
I see
a Brazilian couple
walking in the surf.
And stamped
on her
gym shaped
bicep
was a tat
of the Madonna
Not a Virgin
at the stable
Madonna.
Not a Mary
standing above
the votive candles
Madonna
But
a Madonna
who had a
I can't stand this anymore
expression.
My trance was broken
by French kids
coming back from a swim
but not waking their
parents from their nap.
And down the beach
went
the couple
babbling in
a language
only they
could know.