because you don’t know when the next one will happen.
Water…boats…those skinny girls from high school you love to hate,
knowing you don’t belong even at the age of fifty-something,
remembering the country club where you also didn’t belong and got laid on the 18th hole with the Irishman just to prove a point and stick it to the man.
Walking dazed, looking for that shot
Flash of titanium
Dark mirrored glasses
Silver-haired Santa with earth-colored skin
A leg once human, dragging a camouflage kayak across the concrete jungle
“Watch the goose poop!”
The Birds Final Scene – I am surrounded…
“I’m so done with these geese.”
“And there’s nothing we can do about them.”
“Really? Isn’t there something we can do? I heard if you put a fake dog out, the geese won’t land.”
“Nope. We had those, but they didn’t work. Now we use the stringer.”
“The stringer. The string!”
Pointing at air
Good ole-fashioned white string wrapped around small stakes every foot, outlining the perimeter of grass and docks.
“They can’t climb over the string, so they don’t come here.”
“But the kids don’t know any better. They move the string and forget it. Then them geese come back and shit all over the dock. Them kids don’t know any better. They just sweep the shit right into the water. Not allowed!”
“Gross! Can you swim in the water?”
Eyebrows raised behind dark mirrored glasses
“Would you swim in the water?”
”I do, but I know where to do it. And that water may not look like much, but it can get pretty strong. I don’t want them kids thinking they can swim here and start jumping off the dock.”
Water, brown, placid, unappetizing…
Would you swim?