The Stoker

Here’s to our stoker

our rosy eyed friend,

who dreams of glassy curls

and sessions without end.


Here’s to our stoker

the first on the sand,

waking hours before the sun

makin plans to be grand.


Here’s to our stoker

scouring weather models and maps,

no time for the grind

rally the crew with back slaps.


Here’s to our stoker,

hypnotized like a trance

communes with dolphins

and turns knee-high to jubilance.


Here’s to our stoker,

may he never relent

to the doldrums of reality,

lest the lot of us lament.



Published by

Swell Lines Magazine

Bodysurfing yarns woven 'tween crest & trough