by Ursula Carroll
I went swimming with Lyndon Johnson
the day I decided I could believe in god again or for the first
time,
maybe
I was still a little drunk but he was really there
And I didn’t understand him at first am I slower it must be the heat
Lyndon Johnson’s milkwhite hair stuck to his face
ruddy cheeked he told me about his farm, school and our
shared
childhoods
he bobbed in the water like a great egg and I
counted the birds waiting for an eagle or even better a beady loon
Standing on the sauna decking I felt like Jackie
stoic and exposed in my pink suit and mirroring blood for Him
to
see
Lyndon doing his duty as god sees fit for him
pledging to another period, the after I have to measure against
Ursula Carroll is a writer and translator in St. Louis.