Can't Buy a Thrill
We each did about four hits
of Snoopy acid to go swimming.
It was just me, Cindy and Nicki
until one of her men, Jeff, showed up.
All the acid was gone but he came anyway.
We were almost at the lake and got swallowed
by a road blinking with yellow lights.
I handled it perfectly and we all breathed
and started giggling as we turned onto
the dirt road. Music rolled out of the car,
Steely Dan singing "Dirty Work."
The song's about getting
used for sex but no one got
bummed out because we all
knew the words.
I couldn~t wait to swim,
but wished Jeff wasn~t there.
I was too high to admit
that I didn't want to be seen naked.
I was two and a half months pregnant
and my baby bulged in my tummy.
I wouldn~t have it past Friday.
The water was thick
and squished around us
like warm gelatin.
I swam through to the middle,
weightless, unsinkable.
Then I remembered
the mine shafts under
the lake ~ how one
wall could collapse and suck
the whole lake into the ground.
The water is too big to fight
almost wishing it . . .
I nearly sank staying still.
The broken wall would
start with the tiniest crack
in an empty vein,
water pressure pushing.
I felt the water under me tighten and vibrate
but it was only a fish nibbling at my toes
and the sky woke to pink and blue streaks
strung across it like garland just as the sun
was pulling itself over the edge of Thursday.
I yelled *does anyone else see that?*
I needed an omen ~ instead
I heard a woman scream
like she was being raped,
but it was only a bird.
No one even said *see what?*
and tomorrow disappeared.
copyright 1994 kathy jo kramer