The First Swim


12 28 23 the first swim

We stood


in the dark pacific night

at the edge of a rusty red metal oyster fence

and the crabs scuttled by our feet in the pale blue green water

trapped by the oyster fence

I picked up one that was six inches across

admired its soft red shell in the dim light as it tried in vain to pinch me

laid it back down on the other side of the fence

and we strove forward

in our black underwear

diving into

the waveless sea.

the second swim:

the heavens raged

inch long pellets of rain

I summoned the gods,

“Come ye forth Ragnar,



Ronald MacDonald,


Ronald Ragan,

Donald Jay Trump,

all you fat bastards,

I will take on any one of you,”

and then dove boldly into an ice cold green wave

pulling myself out of the clutches of the  dark sea

I turned and trotted back up the beach stairs to the hot tub

barely holding on to my soaking wet gaunch.