On the beach....

watching, among other things, the youth. Teens we thought, but were probably slightly over 21, tramping about in the sand, their hands constantly touching (groping?) each other.
As I read APR (American Poetry Review) I wondered if they wondered why I'm sitting here reading stuff that appears indecipherable and intellectual and no doubt to them totally boring.
And I think....who is the smarter? They who are totally experiencing life as fully as possible or me and my meager attempt to simply write about it?
I'm tempted to wake up my wife and say, 'Let's play?, let's fondle, touch, kiss, run and get wet in the surf together....
There is time for writing later.