The dark, cold mud
At the pond bottom
Sits between my teeth
And their pink gums,
Sounds sink brown
And water bugs jump.

Please pass the plate
Of frayed orange lifejackets.
I’d like an oar or two
In my sweet tea tonight.
Do you see the light
Bob in the ice cubes

Like the waves
Crashing through my ears,
Sending fish and bait
Flopping, sopping up
A swimming appetite
From my dinner plate?