Saturday, March 24, 2007

The Susan

The sea is called Susan
Because the act of cleansing
Itself is never ceasing:

I knew a Susan who took
A bath her whole life
Which produced the mild effect

On those who would visit her
Of waves lapping against
A pontoon with a brown algae

Hairline that it could never part
Correctly. It was angry but it
Had a job to do – we all feel that way.

I was swimming in Susan
In her light blue sheets
And she began to scratch my back,

And low I was netted and hung
Upside down on a scale hook:
It was my heart they were after,

But I would not give it to them
So they clubbed me on the head
And threw me back to her,

My beloved Susan,
Who I involuntarily gulped
And also urinated out pleasantly.

I needed a bath but I couldn’t
Get the Susan off of me
Even when I washed up in the living room.

So I named the sea Susan.
It’s the kind of name that sticks
To a married seaman.

No comments: