Sound Advice
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.