The Electric Beach

The Electric Beach

In the electric beach

Of the afternoon,

The voltage voice

Of a sunbeam is fixed,

Lacerated on the table top,

With the electric forms

And sundials.

A tarantula

Spreads out its

Legs

Across the sand.

Electric sparks fly

From the tips

Of my chair.

The mirror  explodes

Faces

Storms

Nerve-endings

Vaccums

Contorted bodies.

The piano

Overflows

With dischords,

Echoing

The ghost furniture,

The surreal sculptures

That some call

Rock formations.