When I am sitting at my desk and I have feelings It is like I am the lone passenger in a little boat On a sunny windy day. When we are lying down And we have good feelings it is a speedboat skipping Like a stone among the islands I feel we’re in. When we are sitting in bed at five a.m. talking the light On I don’t feel so good I feel like we’re on a ferry For another six hours going back and up and forth And down. At least it’s a boat. When I sit and talk to girls Someplace I feel like I’m in a maritime museum. When we walk together to the pool or park it’s like I’m rowing you across to Banff, and when I Take you in a car to your mother’s house, the Bay of Fundy. At work the coast guard, walking there the merchant Marine, me in my pea coat.
Mostly Read The Luna Moth
The savor of mango is unlike Toothsome papay. My son takes My hand and brings me Into the classroom; Fluffy Is absent and unremarked-upon And in his place, two butterflies Use tentatively in a sentence. One, he explains, is a boy and The other one lays the eggs, I counted the dots, is a girl. Why do boys not feed babies? He reaches to pull his shirt open And I ask him, did you ever see A baby eat broccoli? a ham sandwich? Someday I will tell him Food is an unpleasant subject For poems, but today I am concerned With biology. I am a science kid, He says on the platform. Where'd He hear that. I know where the one About men nursing came from. Seeing myself tell that story I feel like California's Poisoned groundwater and remember How much work it is to be real. Someone told you men can give milk, But men don't. What about moms and dads Who don't have children? Those are Called men and women. He says Oh a lot. It's immediate And it lags into the next moment And is quiet, what the teachers call A zone of proximal delay. Without This apparent lull there is only Brilliance and potential. With it I get to keep a faith In the unguessable next.