the river is a lake
they say time is a river
is a dead metaphor
but a river can also
be a lake sometimes
the current dies
to stagnant nothing
and even algae
refuse to bloom
thoughts on the image of koku
the empty pier recedes
one stroke at a time
until a line of color
splits two fields
of blue the static
resisting the tsunami
metaphor an insignificant
body cannot support
displacement
a boat that is no boat
this boat displaces more
than floats fiber-
glass body a body
is not a boat without
a paddle an oar
slices arteries blue
on a map water sound
something akin to flight
single length of wood carved
an oar’s organic curves
cannot compete against
the complexity of combustion
rippling latissimus
these artificial wings
dip the lassitude
going nowhere fast
deja vu
gentle waves warp
my reflection silently
repeating all the words
with which I berate myself
and I wonder
will the catfish depths
offer anything
new and unique
Alien Buddha Press 