When The Water Freezes Over

By. MJB

The Art of The Fisherman

You sit there until you feel that subtle

– tug,

and if you sit there long enough in silence,

with the sun glaring in your eyes,

and the wind muttering in your ears,

you start

registering every nip, wave,

trick of

gravity

as a premature win.

If you catch one, and he is too short,

The Pennsylvania State Game Commission says you have to throw him back.

But the thing is –

If he is long enough,

he still may not have enough girth

to sustain or satisfy.

And if by chance

you get a fish (long enough and wide enough),

you run the chance that

you cut the beast open

and the damn thing takes revenge by spilling a thousand eggs

across your kitchen floor.

And when you’ve picked up the spawn that will never be fry,

and you have cut the meat from the bone,

and poked at the liver and heart,

and drained the blood down the sink,

you might realize that you don’t enjoy seafood at all.

You might -in fact- wonder if it was worth

impaling that poor worm

with a metal hook.

Silent River

When the bottle cried louder than the baby

Her childhood had ended.

Imagine -if you would- that the television is on.

The kids are watching static,

but they’re calling it cartoons.

A shadow of paternity

wandered her home

like a ghost.

Be gentle with her

If she won’t touch the water.

She is accustomed to the tide’s uncertainty.

She does not yet grasp

the ever-rushing river.

That Time I Tried To Date A Bird

Turn away.

Don’t watch him go.

Hold. Hold. Hold your breath.

And the door closes with a sickening

thud.

e x h a l e

It aches a little.

Inhale.

Please inhale.

I can’t- I can’t- I can’t- I-

The dryness of it all

makes way

for a wave on my previously tranquil beach.

He left me here.

Here –

stranded on this shoreline,

overlooking the ocean of my empty bed

Waiting for…

what am I waiting for?

And I walk to the window.

And I throw it open with all my weight.

And there he is, perched at his car door, rubbing his temples.

And I almost call down to him

and ask him to stay.

But watching the sun set from this beach alone

is better than chasing a seagull through the dunes,

begging him to take me flying.