Ambrosia
Field Report
25
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Looking for the Win-Win in all this wishful drinking
Got me thinking that I ought to pray in wordless groans
And be fed ambrosia by the doves
But they'd hold me to what I said once;
Years or hours ago, I can't be trusted- only thrown
I keep spinning my wheels
Maybe nothings gonna change
I keep dreaming about the sheriff's kid who I used to chew Skoal with
He was cruel to the other kids just for fun
I always sought them out later on, but I never had the stones to tell him off
He died alone years ago on a golf course with a gun
And I'm here spinning my wheels
Maybe nothings gonna change
Time was, I could stand up straight, but I lost my balance with the ballast weight
Cast over the gunwales, overboard
I got nothing left to push up against but this imaginary resonance
Starting at a spot on the opposite shore
And despite our sins we would not sink; we were
Buoyed by some brackish grace
Our mouths like an ocean drink, we salt-shone in the sun
And the grackles learned the car alarms
Keeping all the neighbors warned
And lovers armed
I do believe we're going down
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