He jumped in to join the pool
to savor his father’s tastes
simple mints and salty beer
nuts, pickled pig knuckles.
After the pool emptied
he reflected sentimentally
on hairs caught in the trap
they pulled up with the snake.
The Drowning Pool
essays, poems, cartoons – since 2007
The Coming of the Toads 
Sounds like you need a plummer ;-)
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…to plumb
the depths
of one’s past
one needs
a very long
snake indeed.
…the present
is not so deep
the problem
is usually
in the trap.
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