River
by Robert L. Dean, Jr.


damned
toilet backed up
drowned clouds
float seaward across
linoleum sky
say this reminds me
baby whitecaps
whispering upstream
birthing secrets
downstream rippling
through here
someplace
the heartland, yes
remember
cool green blades under naked backs, we thought we saw
ships
castles
God, lying
about, ignoring
the sharpness of the world upon flesh
imagining anything
but this
ghastly, bloated
fish-nibbled
skin-sloughing
cipher
vomited up the porcelain
spillway of
somebody call
is somebody calling
plumber
dynamite
can anybody hear
echo, no
my heart
my damned heart
used to be a
river
flowing






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