Poem #751

poetry rumbles under the skin
blue hand veins looking like rapids
it growls and demands explosion
ripping
dripping
without form
more a feeling
the best bandaid is a wing dike
to channel the river of fragments
into a slowly moving bank of words
but theoretical studies show this might result in flooding

Poem #743 – a manageable river

they put her there,
built her concrete body
rolled asphalt into her crown
to hold back the water.

the water crawled with those slithering things:
manic mosquitos breeding disease in the still
depressed rocks displacing water at the bottom

rain for weeks

she digs her concrete fingers into the mountains
on either side

even those slime-covered rocks at the bottom
add weight

her body cracks imperceptibly
water seeps into those hair-thin lines

when the snow comes
ice expands her cracks

they put fish into the deep lake
that she holds back
the fish keep the mosquitos down

no more disease.

years of snow
more rocks have eroded from the nearby mountains
pushing against her crack-riddled concrete body

rain for weeks

the water breaks through her
first: in a spurt
next: an explosion

nothing in the years-dry riverbed survives

Poem #714

I am the ocean
she is the boat
and she is the anchor
I take the boat and anchor everywhere
we explore the world together

hurricanes are inevitable

I am the ocean
she sails into a harbor
and she plummets to the rocky bottom
boat and anchor weather the storm
we set off again

calm waters always return