Water calms me. Baths, steam rooms, pools, creeks, lakes, rivers, oceans.
Niagara Falls.
I soak in the bath for hours. A psychic told me to shower often, to get my head straight, to cleanse.
Wash away other people’s energy.
I remember camping in Fort Bragg. I wanted to disappear into the sea. My mom wouldn’t let me go near it.
I scoured the surface for mermaids.
The images that persist from my childhood all involve water. Bodega Bay. Fort Bragg. Sly Park. Creede.
Venice, Italy.
I spent hours in the bath as a child, my only privacy. I’d dunk my head, listen to echoes.
Think about drowning.
my mom can’t swim.
Don’t go to the lake, you could drown. Don’t go to the river, you could drown.
Rafting on the 4th was out of the question.
I was 25 when she pleaded with me to wear a life jacket
on the Circle Line Cruise in Manhattan.
I’ve been in three incidents on boats, one a coast guard rescue. I avoid them.
Not out of fear. I know it’s me who brings the bad luck.
I don’t think I could drown
if I wanted to
my mom asked to be cremated and thrown into the Pacific Ocean
near San Francisco.
