Our Lday of mPalm Beach

I went for a swim this afternoon. Normally no one is on the beach next to Donald Trump's estate. Today an older woman was sitting on a blanket. Her empire of plastic bags attested to a lack of property. I said hello. She said nothing, as if she feared I would call the police. She was too fucked up by life to hear me say I wasn't calling anyone. A cigarette dangled from her mouth like a set of dentures bound to slip her gums. She washed her feet in the sea and tugged on unwashed soxes. I had no money in my pocket and left the beach, hoping there wouldn't be any rain tonight, because she was sleeping in the sea grape bushes tonight. So far so good. Tomorrow I'll go back to the beach with change in my pocket. If she's there, she gets it. Our lady of Palm Beach.