ignorance, memory, bliss and maturity

High above the Merrimack river
in the cold spring waters of Merrymeeting Lake
on a ramshackled raft painted red, white and blue
i laid in the hot sun and talked with Mike
of bikini clad girls for uncounted hours

the happily ignorant hornpout slurged
along the muck tasting the water for some dinner
right below my nose

my red shoulders drew soft sighs of ouch
and the scrunched the faces of tanned little men
manipulating rudders on white sunfish sailboats with red sails

i did not say a word to them, but
knew the poison of perfection
on a summers afternoon -- it was already too late
for me.

the blissful hornpout wurgled back under
a rock with a full belly then --
still without my knowing

down the Merrimack, in Lowell
Monia Cane ate a fish for dinner
while I rubbed aloe vera
to ease my suffering

the white meat so sweet on her
New England tongue

the cream so cool on my blazing
blistered back

I do not know what happened then
in the icy the spring waters
where the hornpout slept.