Born and raised in the Santa Cruz Mountains, Ryan Masters grew up tromping through redwoods and surfing the Central Coast from Big Sur to San Francisco.
We howl and sing to shape our world
like ocean creatures navigating blind
the miles, the endless miles of sea.
Somewhere between sunblind
surface and a muddy benthic sadness
Benediction!
The bodhisattva poets perv from their shelves,
grinning hey Jehovah, mother Mary, motherfucker, marry me, mount me, make me wet, lick your fingers
