Clearly I’ve been watching too many of these.
I wish these two boys would stop
Fighting over me, because
We are meant to be catching pike
In the mud-brown shallows,
Their bodies long and twisting
Just past my feet, using only
Our hands. I’ve seen several now,
But I know they have teeth, and I don’t
Want to catch one improperly.
I keep watching for them as the two men
Go on about their relative merits,
The sun finally catching the surface
In such a way that seeing anything below
Becomes hopeless. I wade away to shore,
Tell my friend, “One day I’ll tell
These boys I’m gay.” She looks at me,
I can’t remember either of their names.