A friend is scanning HEAT magazine
on a beach where a passionate sun belts him
so he takes off his hat and flourishes sweat.
Boiled, we take a steaming walk and clock
an older woman sporting HOT
on a T-shirt over her large chest - cup D;
so we lick ice cream and out from a beach hut
struts an aging man, neoprene black;
a sea-lion performer, a drama king,
ready to otter the waves on a surfboard,
buttocks trembling in rubber technology.
The sea is cold - and waves inevitably hit him,
and hit him again.