Poem - Sailboat Wars

Sailboat Wars

August, 2008

Sailboats race along a puddle’s

edge while dancing children,

triumphant in their

games, slip noisily behind.

Green grass, slick from rain and

scattered with red balloon corpses

remembrances of the birthday

clown, driven from the field of

battle by icicle swords and

peanut allergies.

You do not envy his escape, his

defeat, you, a dark figure waiting

wondering confused at the paper

eviction – prison in your hands

A sailboat tips, one child

mutinous against another’s crew

follows the king snake away

from the shelter of mothers’

eye, knowing freedom for

a few veiled seconds before

chastising hands pull him

back to slushy puddles and

sailboat wars.

Is this what you see? When

looking through your grimy

window, salvation in mock battles and

magic games.

Is he thinking of snake holes and

gnomes dancing under stones

where more interesting prey

waits for sunlight?

Battles end but the warriors are not

ready to return to the

mundane.  Stomachs call for

feasting and for

rest before another hunt.

Or perhaps you see

nothing, through your haze of

cheap liquor and stale cigarettes,

television wars and satisfaction

addicted to the death of bones.