Hot tea and surf
E. Fleischman
He catches water where it hides
in Arizona.
It is difficult work and takes
concentration to detect flow.
He seeks to conjure
buttresses to his resolve.
Mystic routines done in private
attempt to create many eyes,
and to summon one set of ears,
one body who will answer the question
at the base of his night-struck gyrations.
He drinks hot tea and surfs infinitives.
He locates the magic in his beard, but
he keeps returning to the ocean,
and in his brain,
the steam turns into the words,
“the steam turns into the words,
...the steam turns into the words...’”
