Brian Nystrom–Confluence

Brian Nystrom–Confluence

I asked the river Why are you always running

away from home like some desperate teenage girl?

I saw you smoking cigarettes in the alley with that angel

from Pearl Street, the one with the jailhouse tattoos

and the elaborate piercings. Act your age, River.

 

I asked the river Why do you keep falling

like Gravity is your only friend? She betrays you over

and over and yet you keep falling for her, as if you can’t resist.

Her bleak majesty must call to you, even though or

because you know you can’t have her.

 

I asked the river, River, what did you mean by that look,

when you were swollen with rain and I couldn’t stand

not to be wet so I jumped in? The river as always held her cards

close to her breasts, because they were trout and they glimmered,

and I wanted so badly to hold them.