by Patrick O'Connor

A Fire Island man
Saved the summer’s empty wine bottles.
Tons, this was Fire Island, after all,
Smashed them with a crowbar,
Took them out to sea (way out) and dumped them
For future generations of beach glass collectors.
I’m trying to find the man’s name
To send it to the Vatican for sainthood.

I would do the same
But with broken Noxzema jars, smashed tail lights
And distressed Chilean Reisling bottles.

Patrick O’Connor hails from Braddock, PA. His professions have included television producer,
dance and theater critic for WNET-TV, New York, and 35 years as editor in chief of so
many paperback houses his resume looks like he couldn't hold a job. He is the author
of the poetry collection No Poem for Fritz and editor of The Prayers of Man, an anthology.
After retiring from the book business he became a ski instructor in Killington Vermont.

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