And for him you find your well-pressed F. Scott crumpled on the floor-
for him you find your naked Hemingway
And he says to you,
“Let’s go down
to the river and do the full experience
thing. Let’s go fishing
for monsters in the black.
Let’s find something pretty to hunt
and something mean to kill.
Let’s get drunk and bar-brawl with locals.
Honey, he says, You start it
and I’ll take it home.
Let them chase us, like bulls
back down to the muddy banks.
Let’s get bloody, exhausted and hot
After, let’s cool off nude
and swim together by starlight.
Let’s get unholy
and splash the good clean water
out in the
dirty, dirty dark.”
Her Two Cents
Andrew Wright’s photo, “Water,” reminds me of characters in Hemingway’s stories – broken and imbued with a cold heat that burns and destroys. Frozen water can look like glass, but its response when fingers close tightly around it can leave you with nothing or scars to last a lifetime. One isn’t necessarily better or worse than the other, you just need to know what’s in your hands.