Most People Would Rather Not

Most people would rather not,

but I indulge, every few weeks,

the thought of it. Sometimes

the oily smell of an evening flower appears

and hangs in the air, a slightly browner spot.

I think most people had it wrong when they said

forget about it and find a fresh patch

of grass to lie down in.

There are prayers, though,

about that kind of peace.

I have to admit, sometimes

I want nothing more than to be lying on the bottom

of an unimpressive river.

I can watch all the leaves and sticks skim over my head,

and no one will bother me

because they’re swimming

in the more impressive rivers.

The water’s not too cold. It doesn’t feel

like being dead.

It also doesn’t feel like being old

or fetal.

I came to the humble water to lie down.

I did what I set out to do.

Now I don’t have to tell you

anything more about it.