Backpack with Nina, up the long coast
north of Santa Cruz.
In a cliffish cove we strip
and dash into the surf.
Cold! Run shrieking right back out,
lie naked on warm sand.
Between us lies a sea-snail shell,
a helicone thimble-small.
Purple and mustard ridges and stripes.
Playing, I place it in line-of-sight:
Nina, my shell, and eye.

Now Nina has an elephant trunk.
Now Nina is a unicorn.
Now Nina has a heroic chin.
Now Nina has three breasts,
wow that one would poke you in the eye!
Niiiiiina has a peeeenis, nyah nyanyah nya nyaaaah nyah.

Nina has a navel-cone.
Nina has a truly lame peg leg.
Nina is a mermaid with a spiral tail.
Nina has the One-Armed Man's lost arm come home to mama,
extra handy, since Nina plays jazz;
you can always use a free session player
(half an oaf is better than none).

Nina has a dorsal fin--uh oh, Nina the shark!
Nina has a dunce cap. Now don't get insulting!
Nina has a bird-crest, she's Papagena,
the bird of the love of this world.
Nina has the horn of plenty
and I wish, I wish,
I wish she'd blow it.

Maybe if I'd told her this dream...

But I didn't. I'll never know.

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