saturday at the beach

there is a man
with a crucifix full of cotton candy
selling it to
this obese family of five

who look like fungus tops
sitting upon bowing
plastic, lawn chairs

bell-shaped and breathing through their wide mouths
they're also passing around buckets of fried chicken

spitting pieces of carrion
into the dust and sunlight

as their children scream bloody murder
and wage small wars over soda cans

as some fat bastard with no future
mainlines ketchup packets
and chokes on another crinkle-cut french fry

his woman wrapped in a
what you lookin' at? beach towel

hurling cheetos and a 7-11 big gulp into her soul

while the guy two spots over
grins with his hands in his pants

pumping
pumping
searching for fool's gold

in a t-shirt that reads

hard work is for the future
laziness is for now.