I carried the folding chair under my arm

ambled down to the stop sign

and hung a slow left onto Ukali Street

My waddle paused at the grassy shoulder

to examine the local color

a bookcase offering the odd slipper

Da Slippah Library

for when one side broken

but da other side still good

Nearby where the street emptied

into the Pacific Ocean

I set up my chair facing the trades

the sun to my back

planted my butt

contemplated the sea-flung piles of driftwood

and wondered how much my missing gall bladder had weighed

I spied a perfectly smooth little egg of a stone

aside my foot

hefted the tiny thing

decided that was about right

and slipped it into my shorts to

commemorate the organ

and this modest jaunt

the nurse had recommended