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Owens, Elisabeth, R. (ed.) / Encore: more of parallel press poets

Welter, Matt
Bathing,   pp. 68-69

Page 68

To picture myself, planted in the eternal bath. 
To beaver my bathtub til it runs over the forest floor. 
To bear myself, woolly and naked, ready to wash. 
To toad myself up to the rim of the pool. 
To peeper my merriment in pond-rippling delight. 
To slug my way into a rain-filled fairy tub. 
To turtle and submerge my embarrassment. 
To crevice my thoughts til they lather with form. 
To sphagnum myself, soaking in all senses wild, 
     sponging off all weighted boggy problems. 
To wasp away my nasty angers, daubing 
     life's stings and scratches with mud. 
To trout my face with riffles. 
To otter my back in drenching purification. 
To waterbug my belly, gurgling with joy. 
To cattail my arms and legs with the pollen 
     warm energy of summer. 
To heron my feet, swabbing the undertows. 
To snail myself in a whirlpool of content. 
To salmon myself through waterfalls of triumph. 
To frog my future children's love into puddles 
     singing in life's bathtub to my mate. 
To salamander in Nature's cleansing irrigation 
     til the water goes icy and I skim my way out. 
To lichen myself in a cold sauna of fog. 
To spruce myself in a flurry of golden tamarack needles. 
To sparrow myself dry in a cloud of dust. 
To lynx myself over with tongue-brushing neatness. 
To moose my chest in a wallow of musk. 
To jewel my weedy fingers in dewdrop appliques. 
Too human, to take in the whole experience. 
To Ark all of this life inside. 
To spirit myself clean. 
Matt Welter 
[previously published in The Kerf originally composed for the Cable Natural
History Museum] 

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