Those who clean and press their clothes,
take several showers a day, mark their calendars,
buy cars, purchase tickets, stock up on shampoo,
take vacations in groups, seeing what is recommended to see,
feel slightly uncomfortable when they come upon me:
a skinny local, in my shorts, my sneakers tossed near the bench
a five minute walk from my home;
legs spread, sprawling in the sun,
near where their ferry comes in,
wearing my eternal vacation,
philosophizing in my head as they head past
in sun block, a parade of hats and jeans,
a painting almost, where the sea clouds are massed.