i.
under
water
rugby
as far as I can tell
is the practice of drowning
6 feet under with a snorkel on
while someone's grabbing your shoulder.
but I can't say no, so
let's practice.
after half an hour in the pool, diving
and surfacing spouting sputterings
I see the game, after an hour I
begin to see its plays
shoving down to glide along the tangle
of offense, defense, tackling,
passing in three dimensions.
afterwards I feel like a drowned rat
but strangely eager to try again
until they mention the next "real"
practice is 3 feet deeper.
ii.
everything is too close
to my right, and my left side
keeps threatening to collide:
autobody
dysmorphia
I just want a regular car I
promise I'll drive on the left
I just need to shift the car over
a bit under me, just a little.
pulling out of a dead-end I almost
aluminum-corner the left side (again)
and it's all I can do to get to the
parking garage and get groceries and
eat sushi and calm down.
only hours later
en route to an "unsealed" road
and sunset tent setup
does it stop feeling like a
one-sided headache
it's not until I'm on the dirt
that it starts to be fun: will
I dodge that puddle on the right: Yes.
on the left: No, I'm still
a foot over from where I thought, let's
try
again
iii.
feel too city
to sleep, so wander
over to the path
read all the warnings by red headlamp:
after all, there's just moonlight through the clouds
and I don't know these forests.
the first lookout shows a mountain ringed by terraced clouds
no artificial lights, the sound
of rushing water below. the second shows the same
impressive view; but I want darkness and sound and
smell, so I walk further down, without the light,
taking a detour to see the same view again
looking different without a railing. darker still,
I stop: there's a thrill here, a sense of dangerous
unknowns, and I stop because it doesn't hurt to be
careful and go slowly, but also because the thrill is
here
and I want to enjoy it before moving on.
I run into cobwebs of early spiders
stumble an apology
follow the sound of water
to a small bridge and stand above babble
facing down the valley and
just smelling the air.
walking back I get
that sense of being followed
blame it on the sandy echoes
but still look back once or twice
and keep an ear on it
while my mind tired after a day
of being pulled by fears
flits between phantasms
and scares me just for fun.
we get back up to the lookout,
and I gesture and make room for
my fear to join me at the railing,
looking out and
imitating evening birds