all things

In the deep end of a pool

I cannot swim.  I don't know how.

I'm just standing there.

Feeling death throes of the mind

While the body, passive, complicit

Shows no signs of concern

Waking up is akin to 

Recognizing suddenly that

I'm not supposed to be there.

And willing myself out onto the side.

My first thought on getting out

Was not that I was dry

But that my aunt was probably Kurt Vonnegut

We could have talked about all that

And she would have taught me how to laugh about it

(She learned to laugh about it after

her son's brain was fried by chemotherapy

meant to save his life.)

We never got to talk about it, because I had it turned around.

I was supposed to save her,

but I was never prepared for that conversation

I never had the time

So it goes.

Now my dad's brain is funny

And I have nothing to say about

how it all works, how to be happy--

"You know, I'm a Christian who believes in everything

but the hopeful parts."

And that's how I found myself in the deep end.

I have to go.  I have to eat my salad.