Folk Art

Into the empty grandstand seats,
the synchronized living  competition
splashes its families' accroutrements
and legal papers. The  stacks

of  towels sandbag attempts at  all
other sports by choking  children
spotting the water's edge.  Right arms
raised signal positions in  the pool

that spell out some reason  for breathing.
Lifted left arms inform  commuters
of turns. The vortex to  coordination
dizzies awkward treaders  dotting

the business districts with  bathing caps
while it sucks at funeral  parlors in cities
and suburbs. The losers walk  boards
and planks gargling soup  kitchen therapy

and submerge, while the  ballet bathers
hold their noses on queues.  Getting
their kicks from the Champaign of stocks
and nepotistic bonds, the  team strokes

the American dream with  house paint
and rescues cramped quarters  with life
insurance. Eccentric humans,  waist deep
in cooperation, squat with  mediocrity,

dive with fellow divers, and  spritz
with mellow spritzers. Every  year
champion communities dry by  design
in retirement where they bow  in tandem.

poet's biography ->