amStrand:rowboatDreamskin
if i had an oar-
a better pull, feather in each hand
a four-valve rudder of gold in th bush, ah!
it’s a hard row to hoe, run aground
landlocked castaway woken up bare
to tending my garden in this
o, best of possible worlds, doc-
if i had an oar to row, a better stroke
to share with yours, under tangible par-
it might not substantively matter
as much, then, if this thin belly
grow soft regardless of absence-
regard blinded mass or volume
‘tween a rock & a hard place-
a wheeze-frozen maze-chamber’d pump
& a joint-hinge rusted stiff open to cold
shadow blown up jam-jambed flesh
houseboat skirts shake-tinkling
french doorframe glass…