The first one in open water patrols the lonesome beach. Grateful for stillness to serve as the filter held in nimble hands. The inescapable skies above muddy reaches found rooted in sands. Four winds can’t obey the ton of deadweight that calls itself human. To have and to hold without distractions. Taking off my jacket I find my house keys. The new kid sold his lures and tackle. Box tops will buy them if you sink on one knee. Fun Lovers I grasped finally when I last ate valentine candy. In its heart shape, with tender script. The blue one dyes wombs of new friends. The same ones, I at first adored. Then it turned out, they’re friends like stooges or footmen. Reaping the same, as we always have we watch together incipient breathing. We waited to see ourselves over by the coffee machine. Dropping poker chips after losing everything. We can’t quite place all the young dudes. They wear No. 2 clothes, at the evening pony rides. Bible Story We popped a bubble, it made us wide eyed. Soon we’re dead set against every slander Adam and Eve, willingly precede, in separate gardens. They remain blessed by a stoplight’s peril. They smile the smile, belonging to winners. Our hero of the moment, is restrained in his efforts he mimics only cool ones; he thinks he’ll hit the target. Bio: Michael Igoe, neurodiverse city boy, Chicago now Boston, recovery staff at Boston University Center For Psych Rehab. Many works appear in journals online and print. Recent: Spare Change News(Cambridge MA), thebluenib.com, minerallit.com. Avalanches In Poetry Anthology@amazon.com. National Library Of Poetry Editor's Choice For 1997. Twitter: MichaelIgoe5. poetryinmotion416254859.wordpress.com. Urban Realism, Surrealism. I like the Night.