Ed

sitting in his green canoe
cracking his neck side
to side
in the middle of the lake.
he didn’t give a damn

if anybody knew he was there.
or if the birds sat on him
licking their old
feathers or
letting themselves go

while sitting still. they
were cracking statues in
the throbbing sun,
floating weightless,
the water pounding

against the sides of his
moldy canoe.
wood collapsing off,
floating away,
blending into the water.

from miles away,
blocked by trees
and fog
on mountains, i couldn’t
even see him

holding a telephone.
plastic and dusty,
with the curled and
bent cord dropped
into the water

tugging his ear downwards.
pulling his body in,
he tried to speak
whimpering, maybe
yelling into the phone.

ordering some pizza
with extra sauce.
making sure it’s extra
as the phone escapes his hand
and saying goodnight

to his mother,
his father.
staring at himself

in the wrinkles of the
cold blue water.
and the earth

that he couldn’t even see
on the horizon screaming
at him to paddle in.