A Woman In the Weeds Watching the River
A WOMAN IN THE WEEDS WATCHING THE RIVER
you sit in the tall weeds
hidden from a world
you do not do not do not
wish to participate in.
you believe it would be easier
to live with flying cars, monkeys
who talk, breathing
under water without gills.
up ahead the river bends
to the left, the right and now
a battleship rounds into view.
you watch the sailors work
the oars. there must be at least
twenty or twenty-thousand.
you poke your head over the
tall weeds and meet the eyes
of the woman in the crow’s nest.
this ship is doomed. woman cursed,
a streak of blood down her legs,
down the pole, a puddle on the deck
(drink up, drink up, drink up).
you lay down in the tall weeds
and curl your body into a tight ball.
you do not do not do not
wish to participate in Olympic
sized games so you toss all your pills
into the river and the judges
give you perfect tens for form.
you celebrate by breathing yourself
into a world where all things are possible
impossible, real. you drive a flying car,
you talk with talking monkeys, you breathe
underwater without gills. you sneak aboard
the doomed ship and drink the beautiful woman’s
blood. hiding in the weeds, you wipe your mouth
with the back of your hand and you love, you love,
you love.
Copyrighted
January 16, 2012
Jim Brewer
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