Loving the Deep End

Loving the Deep End

Swimming in my trunks
they stick and suction to my legs
as I'm six.

A memory of the few I have
from that time
when I was six.

Feirmont Springs.
Hot though they were we stayed at the hotel pool
coolly swimming in the sun.

We'd sit in the grass
and eat fries
discussing how best to put the ketchup:

on the fries or on the side?

Here I had cotton candy ice cream
tasting nothing like it
but only of sugar and syrup.

But still I got and get it every year I go
even though I'm lactose intolerant now;
how age will deny you.

But at the pool in my swimming trunks
too long
and me jumping in the deep end to swim.

Doggy paddle none other.

My mom annoyed with me
trying to relax
I hanging onto her neck making her drown.

She would pull me off
and swim further and further
as I tried to swim and grab a hold.

But I would tire in the middle
and she would say not to be in the deep end
if I could not swim alone.

My head would depart under the water.

Her knees would bob me back up
and then she would assist me to the shore
and not long after I would do it again.

Looking back I don't know why
I kept going back
to drown and swim to reach her.

All I know now
is I swim the deep end alone
and I'll be here long after.

-Matthew Koutzun

On the Edge of the Pool

Happy 3rd Birthday "Fine Imagery to Speak Low of"!

For those of you new, thank you for finding me. For those of you old, thank you for reading with loyalty (there are two of you). But the reality is that this is what I love to do, regardless of everything else, this is one of the things that keeps me present everyday: to know that maybe someone felt something or realized something or changed something, perhaps, from reading something, of mine. When you think about it, my blog is still a toddler!
So thank you for coming, send this to your friends and family! Who knows, maybe they'll like what they see!

On the Edge of the Pool

Dancing in the sun,
on the edge of the pool
a girl screams to her mother,
"Mommy- mommy!
Look at me!
Look at me!"

She jumps
head up eyes closed fist clenched
then fingering wildly flailing outwards
as if to catch some bar
some support
only to plummet down
beneath water tension
and legs kicking furiously up and out
hair spattered to face
mouth gapping for breath
saliva spitting out water.

She paddles looking about
eyes darting and flashing excitement
to the cataclysm she created.

On lookers smile at youth
old people fume wiping water off brow
and a mother chats with a friend.

The little girl gets out again
to walk in the sun
on the edge of the pool
to say,
"Mommy- mommy.
Look at me.
Look at me."

-Matthew Koutzun

When I go to Someplace Hollow -or- In the Old Oak that Drops Forever

When I go to Someplace Hollow
-or-
In the Old Oak that Drops Forever

In someplace hollow
the air is dry
it is still
and dark
and even the smallest things don't grow.
Someplace hollow
germs do not exist
there is nothing in the air
void of all and nothing
someplace hollow is a hole.
The more you put in
the more it takes out
and things have trouble finding ground
with nothing to hold onto
the walls stretching further with each grasp.
Forever in a fall
and black all around
close your eyes
and jump up right now
and pretend you're suspended in mid-air.
Because falling doesn't feel like falling
once you've experienced it for sometime
like swimming still
in stale stagnant
water.
You have lots of time here
in this someplace hollow
deepening around you
it's hard to remember
how small it was when it started.

-Matthew Koutzun