How to Swim the Front Crawl
I’ve always wanted
a pool in the basement.
Somewhere private to shed
the daily plod.
Swim a few laps
of front crawl.
Because front crawl is just that --
face down churning away
to get from here
to there and back again,
to grasp the water
as if I might catch up
with the body I used to be,
if I pull hard enough
kick fast enough,
like the teens I see
in line for the diving board
awkward, shivering,
arms crossed to hide
what I would flaunt now
if I still had it.
This is an exercise
in redemption, or oblivion,
I forget which.
I climb out
into my real life,
dripping.
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