Golden Bay

The Golden Man sat everyday at Golden Bay with his slice of cake

from Aunt’s bakery in one hand

and his toothpick in the other.

Golden Man smoked while he ate and always chuckled with icing on

his bruised lip.

And everyday he rode his blue folding bike to only God knows where.

“Have you seen Golden man today?” asked little pink boy.

But today,

the bike was crumpled and bruised like Golden Man’s cakey lip.

So today I stood barefoot in the creek at Golden Bay, next to Golden Man’s

split toothpick and ate a

piece of

cake

too.