INTO THE WOMB
It’s a way to let the present tense
meet with the past, let the little irritants
sink and be absorbed by trees and grass –
these sojourns beyond dark mornings
to familiar places, waiting at first light
for metaphors I’ve not seen before.
They’re out there, the cops and robbers
at every stop light, every intersection
into their town. I try to be polite
and smile, try to like what I despise
of the games we play – find the patience
of a fisherman as I angle for my escape,
breathe deeply and drive towards
the Kaweah gorge and not let my
speedy relief draw too much attention.