CRANSHAW ON A BOAT

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We are floating on the Chain of Lakes eating Rice Krispies out of a bucket. The sun is a soft lozenge medicating a bright red sky. Water skiers hold onto their slackening ropes like love itself. On Party Island, the icy drunks have seized control.

CRANSHAW ON A BOAT

We are floating on the Chain of Lakes
eating Rice Krispies out of a bucket.
The sun is a soft lozenge medicating
a bright red sky. Water skiers hold
onto their slackening ropes like love
itself. On Party Island, the icy drunks
have seized control. Cranshaw has
his hand inside Margaret. No one
is shocked; he was born brazen.
But when he starts in on the Jews,
Arnie gets mad and pushes him
over the side. We let him tread water,
then swing around to pick him up.
Justice? No, Margaret wants him back.

 

This poem was published in RHINO 2013 and appears in Incompetent Translations and Inept Haiku (Cervena Barva Press 2013). 

 

 

 

 

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