Three drunks were stretched out on the city beach

The day was done but nobody had bothered to tell the sun

Whose glare was still light tight and intense

Mac who was the youngest of the three men

Was staring at the sun through his Buddy Holly glasses

Which had been given to him by a Canadian tourist in exchange for a kiss

The other two drunks called Phil and Bhil had fallen asleep

As were curled up like babies in the shadows of the lifeguard tower

The sun had begun to hurt Mac’s eyes so he started to watch the passing joggers

Who all looked the same or so he thought as he finished his bottle of lime gin

Buddy Holly had not been bathed in sunlight on the night that he died

For a moment Mac felt that he was the luckiest man in the world

He removed his glasses and threw them into the broken sand

With the hope that he would be soon become quite blind

And would not have to face another night on this his dour and desolate beach