Sunday, February 16, 2003

160

WORDS ON THE RIVER

A helicopter hits the water, and the man who feeds the squirrels peanuts from the lawn chair where he sits sipping white wine, eavesdropping on the cell phone calls passing motorists make below --

Below is an anagram of elbow --

A cessna flies by along the river, must be beautiful up there. It's beautiful up here if you like a view of rock and tree shadow on snow and road in front of white-dotted green-gray river below a monestary, two highways, a gorgeous suspension bridge (I like math, but I don't love it, not like you, sweetheart) and then New Jersey's little palindromes --

The man doesn't even get up. The chopper didn't crash --
It just went to its Secret underground lair.