Current

Current

By Joe McFadden

I lie on the base of the pool 

I pulled a towel into the depths and pulled 

And stirred cloth into flailing wings 

The ops manager staring at my mom from above the surface

Clandestine practices always look perturbed from afar 

Water boy 

Currents bend 

Pools of simple syrup 

I jostle and pour streams into spirits 

Aerated molecules 

Broth among me 

Larvae, ochre pine needles 

Stones too 

Too unwieldy to carry 

Rocks plucked from shallow basins 

Thrown 

To never be touched again 

Will I touch the same molecules again? 

Or will you swim downstream and end up being ingested

By aquifers and root networks 

Resurrecting into vapor 

Dare I say sucked through straws grasped by calloused fingers

For a moment beads pour off of me 

I continue stirring tidal patterns 

Percussive drops of aqueous 

No one sees me 

I stay still in calm waters until the seventh call home must be heard

The water leeches from my clothes 

Returning slowly to the body of One