Beachcombers, Et al. Sports-fishing Detritus. Great
	Kills: SI, 2001-2003.
	spoolless monofilament mingled with fractured clamshells wave-smoothed glass tary rocks and the occasional suffocating minnow
Child, A Mother and Her Small. To Them the Tankers
	Loom. Spring Creek Park: Tottenville, 2001.
	Orange black pitted hull rising to the clouds DEUTCH HABERSTAM Netherlands Thick white letters rusting to the waterline Miniscule among the white elbows rivets Valves a figure in yellow going about his chores unmissed on shore
Drunk, Eleven in the Morning And. What the Fisherman
	Sees. South Beach: SI, 2003.
	Two humps Rocks and trees nameless Offset by a mile or rmore Ever present A tattered mesh-backed hat For sun protection With a foam cooler for a seat The blues don’t run the cut the way they used to Must be the pollution Another crushed Can in the cooler
Girl, Some Wandering Teenaged. Horizontal. Unknown
	Location: SI, all times of day.
	Speckled with wavy shadows of boats Tended by men who have hands That have worked with line and cable And bear the etchings off a thousand Fathoms sounded
Lonesome, When Running Alone. Muscle Boats At
	Dawn. Loretto: Tottenville, 2002.
	Two men crooked from labor haul the next set of rakes onto the flat decks. The wakes of the tugs pitch and spin the small boats all the way round. The fleet, a couple dozen or more, is matte-gray. Dulled even more by sea salt. Each successive haul is less productive. By full on day, they are heading in Somewhat poorer than when they started.
Man, A Short and Bedraggled. Observing the Ferries.
	Saint George: SI, 2003.
	They pass with foamy spray the errand-runners from pier to pier their bellies loaded some with sleeping solemn masses commercial clicking chatterboxes some jilted some wild some just timid little men
Man, Elderly. The Cormorants. Perth Amboy: NJ, 2003.
	Flashes of oil-black in the waves and on the wing hooked barbed yellow-gold beaks A thousand, maybe more, clustered on the stony break of light buoy one eleven fourteen.