Sub Rosa
Tim Lantz

That is, I don't say anything. Tim and I sit next to each other. The boss
keeps meaning to separate the party, but I tap my feet on

Tim's ribs. I want to take my stilettos off so that he can
feel my toes as his lungs empty. I'm going to the bar

and founding a religion that has already been taken.
There's an ocean with family at the bottom, and Tim has

told me to bring mine, but my father's dead. He died
on a day with twin rainbows, though Tim says the word

rainbow sounds silly on my lips. I don't laugh, however.
Thinking instead about those who have sunk, I stir

the liquid in my glass. Before I can remind anybody
about air, my phone rings and stops the music. I'm

almost finished with rivers and secrets. The kids fall
down stairs anyway, and nobody knows how to take me

home. For the rest of the year, I'm the first student to be called on.

1996 © 2005