by George Bilgere
I am floating in the public pool, an older guy
who has achieved much, including a mortgage,
two children, and health insurance, including dental.
I have a Premier Rewards Gold Card
from American Express, and my car
is large. I have traveled to Finland.
In addition, I once met Toni Morrison
at a book signing and made some remarks
she found “extremely interesting.” And last month
I was the subject of a local news story
called “Recyclers: Neighbors Who Care.” In short,
I am not someone you would take lightly.
But when I begin to playfully splash my wife,
the teenaged lifeguard raises her megaphone
and calls down from her throne, “No horseplay in the pool,”
and suddenly I am twelve again, a pale worm
at the feet of a blond and suntanned goddess,
and I just wish my mom would come pick me up.