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