White sneakers tapped rhythms in the air. 
White smoke billowed from every pore. 
Tomorrow I leave it all. 

I don't have to worry about boiling over in Jersey, 
Confessions run into the spillways 
And funnel out into the sea. 

Ocean City is flooded with ocean tears. 

And I left you sitting on the boardwalk 
Among sand and children flying kites, 
Old men on bikes and high-priced sodas. 
I left you among the salt water taffy long ago, 
When the air was still cold, the shops were still closed, 
And we were still everything. 

White sneakers tapped craters in the sand. 
White smoke billowed from ocean-going freighters. 
And tomorrow was still forever away. 

Footsteps echoed on the boardwalk. 
This was only May, this was only heaven. 
Memorial Day had not yet passed, 
Flowered swimsuits had not yet appeared, 
And I had not yet lost this love. 

Confessions will drip into the Delaware 
When I cross the Walt Whitman again this summer. 
They'll run out into the Chesapeake, 
Flooding the Bay Bridge, 
Flooding Virginia Beach, 
And Ocean City will remain cool. 

Nothing boils over in Jersey. 

**

April 10th, 2002