The Idea Of

A Midwestern water park in winter is

like farting at the gym on a Stairmaster

or tripping in public only to glare at

the crack in the sidewalk that isn't there,

like using 'vestibule' in conversation

while standing at the lip of a hole

the size of eight city blocks.  Trying to hail

a cab in West Lafayette, Indiana is like tap water,

anywhere, like writing 'Great! on a piece

of paper, then underlining it, twice,

which is sort of like betting on yourself

winning a foot race in moon boots or

building a campfire on the beach,

on an incoming tide, or the way parties

are lonely, like music.  Like quitting smoking

for a few days, as you imagine the end

of the movie of your life, which is like

the idea of drowning that you have just

minutes before burning yourself.

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