a deep pool;

I’m a deceptively deep pool, the

epitome of a false head, false tail;

a casual grouping of ideas bathed and fomented,

too shallow to sink ships.

The morning wanes, no longer the peninsula;

blends into afternoon on the painter’s palette: obedient.

­

All while the day is a sport, cracking open the lobster’s

claw.  Before you know it you’re fixing to work out the soft meat.

It sleeps with the other men and women; harbinger of all other beds

made & unmade,—

stood: laughing, stood crying, deathly, or full

of labor or stingy solitude, giving away participation awards:

­

thank you for trying.  I’m woven and tied to today like a current.

And we’re all bound and knotted together, planing off of the top

sands.  Unofficial bets make some of us maladapted.  And some

are just better, at the Boolean algebra, the endorsing of

causality.

Some of us fight to death.

­

But at all ends, time is how long it takes to do and takes to be.

And who am I?

I’m a deceptively deep pool, an array of swollen

lymph nodes gone unnoticed, filling deep beneath the sea.