I imagine that I have to swim across a river a few times a week; it keeps me fit, for it's all I do with my body, to grievingly admit.
There are floating varieties of orchid and snapdragon caps
I shimmy across the surface or arc deep, but my sinus
in those instances could be affected.
I pass back and forth with the virility of water
and I pump this life to the bone.
I imagine I am something like the boatman
on the Styx river: a conning Jim or Heather
who can no longer get a loan.
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