My ocean's the one bad weather blows out to. To face the other, waves all driven by prevailing winds, I have to turn my back on my family. May they forgive this westward spree, my losing my head to ravens that ride the thermals in circles, to the shrub-covered bluffs of coastal scrub and chaparral, to coons in the avocado trees; may they not worry that I see signs warning Great White Shark Area, Rutting Elk May Be Aggressive, and Hazardous Surf, or that one night two quick earthquakes burped through the ground; and may they repeat, when I return slightly burned from the land of poppies, all the lessons they ever taught me about odination in the ordinary.
From Cussing Lesson by Stephen Cushman. Copyright © 2002 by Stephen Cushman. Reproduced with permission of Louisiana State University Press. All rights reserved.