You said I could go to the boat dock and refinish the deck of your 36 foot yacht, this sunny Sunday afternoon. Stuffing cotton in the seams, pounding it with a mallet and cold salami sandwiches. Mask the boards, add epoxy, add oil, then sand and scrape the mahogany finish.
Listen, the gulls cries mix with children's feet on the docks.
Sunny Sunday Bradley wins, and I am home for the final kick.
The dog's been to the beach. He watched me from behind a rock, thinking for sure, "I'll get her this time", then I sneak attack, and chase to the water. The crystal clear, infamous, mid-winter, off shore breeze, with perfect sets which stop conversation sea.
I'm sorry was I saying something.
That water will have this boat gliding like Varathane off a brush.
You make things possible with $3 in your pocket.