MIKE LADD — BOOMER BEACH The streets dive-bomb into the sea and the girls are in the shacks and we, starved for their touch, unaware of our own beauty, can't believe our luck as we drive our wrecks here. The waves curl and dump – an exquisite series of punches to the heart, the gulls blanket the rooves, and little white snails live and die in the dunes fragile under us as our first real kisses stun our mouths.
AU/UA: Contemporary Poetry of Ukraine and Australia — 39