Oh, oh how the low waters flow
preparing, splitting, scraping
Below, cold rolled stones split and grow
While over currents are warmths colliding
Your quick yell down the valley rips
In echoes as this aquaphobia insists
And the energy of offput kicks grips
Fluid like a mouth keeping mist
But your fear is deeper than the water
so we simply walk back to shore,
where I stare through a lukewarm puddle
at frogs making lazy love. They just sit
on each other for hours and every so often hop away and drag out a long chain
of fertilized eggs. This necessary excess to stack the statistics
is hidden in humans to
our disadvantage, to
our advantage, at
the very least our anxiety. I wasn’t anxious,
I was entertained.
Those two apes were going at it in the Animal Kingdom and that stereotypical Taiwanese tourist with the Hawaiian shirt and Japanese camera was laughing like a madman.
For youth, the source of anxiety and fixation.
The energy of worry.
The chubby kid from the grade below
me edges up into my vision and voyeuristically plants himself. We don’t dare meet eyes. Then you were done dipping your feet. We leave and have awkward teenage sex in my car in a parking lot, every so often checking if someone is watching.