Reverie Fair Magazine | Page 47

Loch Ness (Ian’s Day)

In the morning

Ian’s wife asks him

To buy the baby milk

Oh, aye, he says

And pinches hard

His baby’s soft flesh.

In the afternoon

Ian’s mistress asks him

If he truly loves her, only her

Oh, aye, he says

And twists hard

Her blue-veined breast.

In the evening

Ian’s best friend asks him

Will he pay the money back

Oh, aye, he says

And suddenly, fiercely

Ian stabs the man dead.

On the banks of the Loch Ness

That flows so black and wide

Ian stabs his best friend dead

Oh yes, indeed he does

And then he walks away.

Below the loch water,

The creature watched.

He shrank away

And thought with fear,

There still be monsters

Up above.

Oh, aye.

There still be monsters up above.

 

The Swimming Pool

I am swimming

in a swimming pool

in the midst of a forest green

growing tangled and exotic

a pool made of cool mosaic tile

not natural but intrinsic

I am alongside many fishes

whose names I can’t recall

like them I am kinetic, aquatic

insects are humming, buzzing

and churring

melodic hypnotic

I swim through blue water

wet outside, wet inside

wet through and through, erotic

the water begins churning, roiling

fish growing fierce, giving chase

wild and chaotic

I flee from the fish but am caught

we struggle, demonic

then the water is calmly still again

smooth as milk cream, a tonic

opening my mouth wide I drink,

swallow taste euphoric

floating on my back, I see the sky,

see the swimming pool inverted

blue sky water, fish cloud-darting erratic

there I am, am I still swimming?

it washes over me in a wave frenetic

I know what these fish are called

I know that I cannot swim, then

one moment of gasping panic

turns ecstatic, stretching on and on,

stretching on, just like elastic

one lap in the swimming pool

of mystic