Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.22.241.171

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem


Down the river

Far from the emptied swimming pools

Far from skateboards

Down the cold, foaming river

Sitting, reclined in a floating rubber tire

Skin tanned from summer sun

T-shirt stained from farm work

Dirt, mud, sticks, fire

All muddle your shirts colors

Your mouth full of smoke

In your hand, a rolled paper smoke

In your top coat pocket, three more stand 

Resting like bullets in the chamber

The sides of your coat, dripping wet

Dragging behind you in the water

There you sit

Farmlands can be seen in both eyes

Yellow grass, red barns

White silos with blue caps

Green tractors

There in those barns

Moonshine is made

Squeezed from the fruits of autumn

There, in those barns

Secret plants are grown

Little laboratories are set up

A mix of white doctors tables

And the smell of hay

The river keeps pulling you forward

The sky blue like deep water

Clouds with foamy shapes

Metal can of lemon juice in your spare hand

Its sharp lid bent to one side

Cold with ice that jingles like pocket keys

This is a good trip

Not psychedelic or anything 

Just calm

Just relaxed

Just right for floating

Fish underneath you

Swimming against the current

Their bodies the color of clay

The rocks around them

The same color but covered with snails 

Moss green snails 

Plate sized painted turtles paddle along

Their eyes striped with yellow

Their shells the color of dried pumpkin fire 

A puff off your wrapped paper smoke

A new wave of sleepy muscles

Of new ideas and new questions

But mostly of calm enjoyment 

Another puff as you keep floating down

The river goes for miles more, so you will too

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required