beyond the nightchorus

windmill whirring (squeak/squeal sound in there)
as i move through the cool water
in the morning of this already-warming day

how i hang my head over the side of the dock
whose shade renders the water transparent
which means i can see the small school of fish
treading and moving
and when i snot rocket the allergy sinuses
into their waters they
dart towards it and suck it in
(silvery/clearish looking fish
with a black splotch where the fins
grow out of their bodies)
and in this shadow rectangle i also see
a black water snake
with brown markings
about 2 feet long
squiggling along the sandy bottom
and popping it’s head up through the surface

encountering vishnu schist (a type of rock
that i can’t believe hasn’t been turned into a band name yet,
tho maybe it has and i just don’t know)
in print twice in two days:
1st: in the national geographic
stacked in the magazine stack
in the gooseberry privy
in the article about the grand canyon
2nd: in rebecca solnit’s
faraway nearby
where she is also talking about the grand canyon
and rafting it
stepping out into night
and beyond the nightchorus of insects,
the sounds of darien’s accordion
rising past the treeline
while the northeast sky
quickflashes with far away 
but still brilliant lightning
and there is something about
how this is the season of
night after night of lightning
from distant storms
that never pass through
two ice packs
on either side of my ass
while i read my way towards sleep
attempting to soothe this
very serious case of
chigger bitesplosion

the pretty cute wheezy snoring
of the big black and white cat
whose name i don’t remember
crashed out at my side
as i write this


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