THE TAKE OUT

I paddle the kayaks back to the boathouse. 

First the sea yak with it’s great tracking

Then the little yellow one for children

And finally the two small blue ones

Good for racing because they’re equally handicapped. 

Now the sailboat’s just a dingly, I lost the sail when i capsized. 

I swim it in then the speed boat’s 1000s pounds

Easily sliding at the end of my tow rope

Then I’m sweeping out the art studio

That faces the lake with giant bay windows

So many dead scorpions 

Each in a sarcophagus of dust, pencil shavings

And fragments of dried clay. Their bodies

Are so dried and tight

Arms spread out like a man’s on a cross

The prayer of their tiny claws open and unanswered

I’ve sacrificed another summer

To the clouds, the garter snake

6 feet long that lounges on the breakwall 

The roaches that walk on water

The vultures that dress up like eagles

The little girl with seaweed breath

And a four year old that’s left out by the world

Tight blond locks relaxed in the thick humidity

Bouncing a tennis ball

Against the hull of an enormous boat

Shipwrecked 10000 years ago

And now I exit Alabama and “the south will rise again”

Like a hog rising to the top of a tornado.

~~~

THE YETI WENT TO THE GETTY

Yeti’s are all bark, said the security guard. 

The yeti wore permafrost around his eyes. 

 We warmed to him as the earth warmed, quickly. 

~~~

THIS MARRIAGE THING

Listening to jazz now

on KRWG. Imagine how many

Jazz stations are playing 

right now, how many solos

drifting into the past

at once, a DJ lists

everyone playing and I’ve got this

marriage thing I need to 

never get in the way of.

I’ll press into touch

embark on embrace. 

It’s true what they say

a man can spend 300 hours

contemplating a hug.