Underwater

UNDERWATER

In a forest underwater
Is where I breath,
Open my mouth
That I kept closed on land.
I was suffocated,
Stiffed
In schoolrooms, parlors, on pavement,
And in imitation Italian ristorante
With a black hair, middle aged woman.

Underwater,
I'm alive,
Salt-soaked mosses tickle my lips,
Coral caresses my caves.

Up above water,
Only documents and dry lives.


Duane Locke

Posted over on Poetry Magazine