Thursday, July 08, 2004

from The Oklahoma Stories

One way I get to telling.

On hot days, I lie on concrete at the side of the pool and let the sun shrink my skin while I breathe in and out real deep. I get heavy quick. When no one is looking and it’s something all of a sudden, I roll into the water and make my way to the bottom near the drain. I swim slow circles around the black hole and wait. The water, sounds, all the blue, the colorless chemicals, and my thoughts, too, leave--all of it drains.

When I see stars and turn inside out, I kick to the surface to flirt with a girl, splash her, and talk a mile a minute about some thought or truth I have discovered down below. I get lost in the telling, and they bail me out with questions that lead to answers they always already have.