Audacious cretaceous crabs crawled along the beach.

I longed to ride.

I must apologize.

I got confused.

I could never sit astride

a dinosaur

or a tiny mammal

                                                though my hands can sometimes

scuttle sideways with the crabs.

I’ll scrawl

an ornate bridle

and a willing silver steed.

I’ll call him Mr. Prufrock.

            This bit confuses me.

                                                            A grasp and a gallop, 

a barnacle and a pinch.

I am reminded that

tomorrow will be barnacled and repurposed.

Let’s leave it there

beached like an ancient edit

forever pummeled by sand and wave.

My dear Mr. Prufrock, though hooved, you write with the audacity of a sea horse.