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Swimming at a standstill
by David Barger
2016-03-30 10:41:58
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I swim in a sea of blue mustard
Where food coloring arranged
This acrylic liquidated display.
There must be fifty feet between
The brown sand and where I drift.

swim_400My feet have become pale blue
Less than six feet below me;
Each toe wiggles transparent
Seemingly invisible to the naked eye -
Makes me wonder what lingers
Beneath the tiny vibrations,
And what I may catch in the next minute.

I left my fishing pole at home
In the belly of a sun faded gray shed
That is silent and neighboring
Beside a weather-beaten wooden fence.
There is a hole my back pocket,
And emptiness has replaced my wallet.
If I remember correctly it escaped
Near the shed, and burrowed in rain drenched
Compile of mud like a painted turtle.

My arms bend and stretch in treading motion.
I relax my body and lay back down
Facing away from the darkness under my eyes;
Floating in the water's surface
Unaware of my surroundings.
My ears are swallowed by the liquid.
My eyes shut out all yellow of the sun.
From above it must look like it liquefied crucifixion.
My hair spreads out duplicating seaweed;
With each breath I intake the salted air,
And sanctify the purification of my lungs.

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