Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Duck in the swimming pool.

To be a duck,
to be a little brown turd
graced with the wings of cherubim
if not the flaming knives,
to be granted in flight
a vertical undeath,
to have the keys
to the moaning waters of the world,
to see the arc of sound
through the eyes of spheres,
to prefer to paddle in poison,
wade in a sick blue bath,
a maze of chlorine and skin.
Maybe so.

No comments: