La Plage dans la Ville

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I don’t think before I act,
I don’t look before I leap,
the capricious waves tell me,
throwing herself onto a meticulous sandcastle.
Children begin to cry,
Seeing their painstaking work
Crumble ruthlessly beneath her weight.

Nobody has caught me from shoplifting yet,
the audacious seagull smirks.
He opens his sharp beak,
Using it to snatch a freshly prepared turkey sandwich
from an unsuspecting beach bum.
The bread perfectly toasted and the meat perfectly sliced
Just for the occasion.

It’s the perfect day to perfect my frying skills,
boomed the joyful sun,
as it began to shine upon the earth.
Bikini-clad girls lay on soft beach towels
spread across the piping hot sand,
browning their skin, desperate to get the perfect tan.

Across the street,
shutters fly up, welcoming sunlight into shops.
Doors prop open, preparing to give admission to hundreds of visitors.
Welcome mats unroll, ready to be tripped over by flip-flopped feet.
The boardwalk comes alive,
eager to wake from its slumber under the starry skies the night before.

This is city life in the summertime.





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