Sound Advice

Ben Berman

 

You can’t swim in the same river twice

You slip and fall where once there were rocks

And with your legs lifted you realize your life

 

Is drifting away and you’ve lost your guide –

The grip of the ground, the tight grip of sex,

You can’t even swim in the same river once.

 

But whiskey has taken control of the night.

It’s the wrong lover, you’re on your back

And with your legs lifted you realize your life

 

Is pebbling ripples and you’re running dry.

You catch a fish, you throw it back.

Not even they swim the same river twice.

 

But again we’re here, forting the mind

Searching its singular crannies and nooks

And with your legs lifted, you realize your life

 

Is careful negotiations with ice.

You’re spitting out k’s: Security! Trucks!

And with your legs lifted you realize your life

You’re swimming, you can’t, in the same river twice.

 

 

 

Copyright 2007 by the Tipton Poetry Journal.

All rights remain the exclusive property of the individual poet and may not be used without their permission.

 

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