The river runs straight behind my home.
An iron factory spews coke down stream
And the ashes and willows were rippedw
Into the water by a derecho last summer.
I sit with my sister on a concrete pier.
Tomorrow is her wedding day — resignation
Is a philter poisoning her halting speech.
The speedboat comes like a swarm of bees,
Yellow with long stripes of scratched black.
A man waves as he passes and ignores
My gesture to move right to deeper water.
He passes under an iron trestle and turns about.
Now he’s much too close to his right shore,
Is soon airborne, a flightless bird in flight.
(He’s hit a partially submerged concrete pier.)
The boat, now vertical, drops him backwards
And hits him with its stern as it comes down.
We hear shrieks like seabirds, see flailing arms
Try to move him toward the opposite bank.
The boat is caught in a tight circle and strikes
The man twice more before moving downstream.
My sister and I push a canoe into the water
And try to paddle toward the thrashing man,
But the churning, circling speedboat blocks us.
People on the other shore wade in and grab him.
He has no entrails and they watch him die.
The speedboat continues to circle — as my sister
And I return to dock — to circle and circle
Until it runs out of gas and courses straight,
As though the steering wheel has been unlocked
By the empty tank, unbending its curve,
So the boat can crash, vertical again, on land.