Ghosts Can’t Swim – POETRY CHURCH

You never really know
Who they bring along
What ghosts are riding shotgun
Talking, talking, talking
All the way to the beach
And drowning out the song

But everybody here
Knows that ghosts can’t swim
Cold water to them is searing heat
And anyway
They can’t even stand
A bit of sand on their feet

The ghosts just stay in the cars
Angry at the stars
And their children down here below
Made of countless planets
That stick between their toes

So in the cars they wait
Grumpy
Listening to AM radio
While the real people
Laugh and play
Real smiles on real faces
Beneath a bluer sky
Enjoying better times
And even better places

So linger a bit if you will
Lend that wax to the stranger
Crack those jokes
And hide those beers from the ranger
Take it easy
And take it slow
And don’t be in such a hurry to go
Because it’s never really known
Who’s quietly waiting for anyone
On their ride home

About The Author

Matt Beard

Matt Beard is an artist most known for his paintings that portray hundreds of locations across the length of the entire California coastline. He spends weeks at a time alone in his van traveling the state and looking for new vistas upon which to plant his easel. All that time on the road has really messed with his head, and so he’s taken to writing poetry as a way to cope with his increasing anxiety about parking tickets or overnight camping violations.

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