POEM
Daniels, Jim
POEM Jim Daniels Free Swim We ran pale in baggy suits through our sprinkler watering dirt, dandelions and clover. I punched against each wave bending toward me, then away, toward me, away. It...
...I stood by Dwayne Wisnicki's gate in the new subdivision, squinting out at Junior Lewis in the pool flashing his phony grin...
...One night stumbling home late I stopped to peer through a hole at the glistening water, shiny tile, neatly stacked chairs...
...After midnight, we snuck over to Wisnickis', hopped the fence and slipped into the pool, fighting not to splash or laugh...
...An old man regularly and without complaint hammers new boards up to keep our eyes off the privileged...
...Through the sprinkler, over the perfect lawn, I take my time...
...It always returned like our father always returned after work, collapsing on the stoop...
...One night we slept outside to escape our hot, tiny room...
...We floated in the dark cool circles...
...Until a door opened...
...I admit to a generalized resentment...
...I rent the stuffy attic of a house on a street where kids bust out boards in the fence around the pool by the high-rise down the block...
...We learned to wait in line in black-tar heat for Free Swim at the high school...
...My father shoved Dwayne's off the stoop: You wake me for thatl He coughed up a hocker, spat, went back in the house...
...Today walking home from work, I cut in front of the high-rise...
...The fence divides us, and it's hot out here...
Vol. 60 • June 1996 • No. 6
