No deposit, no return

A little early in the morning

I walked up the beach above Malibu

above the Reel Inn Tavern

the sand, the sea, and the sky all the same color,

and a seagull came down, gently
like a floating Kleenex
landed, walked up to me, and started talking.

I was drunk, but I swear it happened. 

“I don’t mean to hover,” said the gull, “but
I’ve been watching you, and it seems to me
that you’re trying too hard. You’re living so people
can say—at your funeral—how nice you were.” 

I looked away, out at the sandy horizon. 

The seagull walked over to a bottle on the beach,
kicked it over a half turn.

“C’mon buddy, isn’t it true?  You can tell me. 

We all do it. But look at this bottle—can you see it
from there? It says, NO DEPOSIT, NO RETURN. 
Ok?” 

The seagull flashed feathers and got up in blue sky. 

I flashed up there too, and followed her. Or him.