Bob Elmendorf

Out of work and the mental hospital
I got a tan that made people turn. Boy
you look good. But I didn't feel

that good. One Saturday a girlfriend
of my wife's came out to share the heat
of August on our beach. She changed

in the room which was one large bed,
and came out with the curves of frond,
shore and shell. For the first time

on the beach there was seaweed which
went with her as she rose for the water,
and later streamed behind her as she swam.

I spoke with her with the water as interpreter,
leveling our midriffs until our words came out
like breaths. I had spoken with a woman

in Santa Domingo at about the same depth,
and the four of us went out for dinner,
prawns, and riding in a carriage with

each other's spouses. However, this woman,
smelling a marriage left to burn on the stove,
left early taking the evening with her.