Re-Visiting the Gulf of Mexico

On all the walks I walked 

from July 1987. . . 

I inhabited a Florida season

. . . to December 1994, because once,

on Honeymoon Island, he kissed

me in August, 1986 – we slurred

our bodies swim-dancing, we were

foaming around in hot salty sea

born: son, December 1987

born: daughter, March 1992

Salvation army sold us

an ugly brown couch, $100

we borrowed, bounced checks

we lived on Tuna Helper

swigged cheap non-alcoholic red punch

built a "desk" in a closet out of

an unfinished slab door

had the gall – or the grit? – to start

charging people to talk, and god

only knows why, or who the hell

gave us good money to listen

did this help anyone? did we "do" any good?

or, at least, do no harm?

was everyone who stumbled into

our oversized closet 

as clueless – as reckless – as we

had no good reason to be?

All photos and text copyright Kelly DuMar 2017