Where is Waldo

strikes a match on his own skin
to light the Daily
News bunched under driftwood to glow green
blown Waldo’s windblown hair smells of waves

he nightdreams crowds more sublime than any mountain
Waldo in the crowd like a shark dividing the white sea
Waldo wanders croplands in motelight
a moot point

an outlander sawdust fleck
well outside the main argument of the saw
dusters backflip overhead Waldo
smashes elbow ways into the old

truck sleeps and the city comes
to him dreams birds with human emotions
pink electricity connects the poles
birds that only laugh and cuss

little lost colonist little
ex-pat shit-eating grinning up at the woodpeckers
their beaks so big they can Leave it to Beaver trees
woodpeckers who hoot who talk about their jobs at the bar

Waldo syrupy on a skein of wine crawls toward Big Sur bluffs
the darkness he knows is the ocean
from the noise distinct from the Atlantic he thinks
Waldo hears the bicycle spokes click thinks of the movies he made

Waldo listens to the Mission man banging the electrical box like a drum
Waldo burns his textbooks and swims naked in the sea
all energy and circumstance
“big as death”

all parasol and tube top
gulls in their which way find a cousins’ meat
Waldo on the slaughterhouse rugs
Waldo painting about painting

alone on the love boat
skips stones over a rapidly moving river
culled to culture and loving to look
barista with holes in his sweater

Waldo kisses the tip jar and says
“they haven’t banned affection yet”
or “what a delight” at the onlooking prudes Waldo
writes in the cold teeth chattering like a knife drawer

screams at his students about the importance of quiet
my page-turner
my book-burner
Waldo at the dump where peacocks roam free

Waldo anchored in nothing but his own shirt
lovebird
collection of seaglass
Waldo Odlaw

my sweaty wanderer
searching for echoes in the abandoned naval yard
flunks at the ditched kite
perpetually nose-diving into earth

breezy skid
the sum of his parts without real eyes
just the glasses
for breathing

Will Vincent’s chapbook, Wildfires: I-XVI was recently published with speCt!. His poems and articles have appeared in The Elephants, Scout, PANK Magazine, Entropy, HTML Giant, and The Iowa Review. He co-wrote a short film with Adam Shecter and edited a chapbook of the same title for the video installation New Year, displayed at the Eleven Rivington gallery in New York. He lives in Culver City, California.

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